Uncle Pen (Alternate Take)
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
Oh, the people would come, from far away
They'd dance all night, till the break of day
When the caller hollered, "Doe-se-doe"
We knew, Uncle Pen was ready to go
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
Well, he played an old tune, called, "Soldier's Joy"
And the one they called, "Boston Boy"
And the greatest of all was, "Jenny Lind"
To me that's where fiddlin' begin
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
Well, old Uncle Pen, was a fine old man
And he washed his face, in the fryin' pan
He combed his hair, with a crack in the mirror
Died with the toothpaste, in his hair
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
I'll never forget, that mournful day
When Uncle Pen, was called away
They hung up his fiddle, they hung up his bow
They knew it was time, for him to go
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
Oh, the people would come, from far away
They'd dance all night, till the break of day
When the caller hollered, "Doe-se-doe"
We knew, Uncle Pen was ready to go
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
Well, he played an old tune, called, "Soldier's Joy"
And the one they called, "Boston Boy"
And the greatest of all was, "Jenny Lind"
To me that's where fiddlin' begin
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
Well, old Uncle Pen, was a fine old man
And he washed his face, in the fryin' pan
He combed his hair, with a crack in the mirror
Died with the toothpaste, in his hair
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
I'll never forget, that mournful day
When Uncle Pen, was called away
They hung up his fiddle, they hung up his bow
They knew it was time, for him to go
Late in the evening, about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen, played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing
Credits
Writer(s): Bill Monroe
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.