Since many persons taught me the words from which many are different
Exact words are not known.
Oh, the people would come from far away
They'd dance all night till the break of day
When the caller hollered, Dosedo
I knew Uncle Pen was redy to go
Late in the evening about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, oh how it would ring
You can hear it talke, you can hear it sing
He played an old piece he called "Soldier's joy"
And the piece they called the "Boston Boy"
The greatest of all was "Jenny Lynn"
To me that's where it would really begin
I'll never forget that mournful day
When Uncle Pen was called away
They hung up his fiddle, hung up his bow
They knew it was time for him to go