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Way back in the mountains, way back in the hills
There used to live a mountaineer, they called him Fiddlin' Will
Now he could play most anything and some said he could sing
But the one thing he liked best to do was sawin' on the strings

So tune up the fiddle, rosin up the bow
Look at ol' Will, a-pat his toe
He'll make music til the rafters ring
Listen to the old man sawin' on the strings

When the neighbors had a shindig, they all had vittles to eat
Sometimes they had to wait on Will for frolic be with him
When he came down from the mountains the gals began to sway
Sometimes he pick the old five-string, tune til the break of the day

So tune up the five-string, tighten up the hide
Tell all the young folks to get inside
He'll make music til the rafters ring
Listen to the old man pickin' on the strings

So tune up the fiddle, tighten up the hide
Tell all the young folks to get inside
He'll make music til the rafters ring
Old man pickin' and sawin' on the strings

So tune up the five-string, tighten up the hide
Tell all the young folks to get inside
He'll make music til the rafters ring
Old man pickin' and sawin' on the strings