Sawing on the Strings Lyrics

Way back in the mountains
Way back in the hills
There used to live a mountaineer
They called him Fiddlin' Will
He could play most anything
And some say he could sing
But the one thing that he liked to do best
Was sawing on the strings

So get out the fiddle
And rosin up the bow
Look at ol' Will a-pattin' his toe
We'll make music till the rafters ring
All that pickin' and a-sawin' on the strings

When the neighbors had a shindig
And they all had vittles to eat
We'd always have to wait on Will
For the frolic to be complete
When he comes down from the mountain
All the gals begin to sway
Sometimes he'd pick that old five-string
Until the break of day

So tune up the five-string
Tighten up the hide
Tell all the hill folks to get inside
We'll make music till the rafter ring
All that pickin' and a-sawin' on the strings

So tune up the five-string
Tighten up the hide
Tell all the hill folks to get inside
We'll make music till the rafters ring
All that pickin' and a-sawin' on the strings

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