| G | |
| Oh, the people would come from far away |
| D | G | |
| They'd dance all night till the | break of day |
| When the caller hollered "do-si-do" |
| D | G | G7 | |
| You knew Uncle Pen was | ready to go. |
| CHORUS |
| C | G | |
| Late in the ev'nin' a- | bout sundown |
| D | G | |
| High on the hill and a- | bove the town |
| Well Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lordy, how it would ring |
| D | G | |
| You could hear it talk, you could | hear it sing. |
| He played an old piece he called "Soldier's Joy" |
| And the one he called "Boston Boy" |
| The greatest of all was "Jenny Lynn" |
| To me that's where fidd'lin' began. |
| CHORUS |
| 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. |
| CHORUS |