"My Uncle Pen was one of Kentucky's old-time fiddlers, and he had the best shuffle with the bow that I'd ever seen, and kept the best time. That's one reason people asked him to play for dances around Rosine, Kentucky. In his later years he was a crippled man. He had been thrown by a mule and had to use crutches the rest of his life. My last years in Kentucky were spent with him. He done the cooking for the two of us. We had fatback, sorghum molasses, and hoe cakes for breakfast, followed up with black-eyed peas with fatback, and cornbread and sorghum for dinner and supper. I can remember those days so very well. There were hard times and money was scarce, but also there were good times. If it was to do over, I'd live them again." --Bill Monroe
UNCLE PEN
Words and music by Bill Monroe
Oh, the people would come from far away
They'd dance all night till the break of day
When the caller hollered "Do-se-do"
He knew Uncle Pen was ready to go.
CHORUS:
Late in the evenin' about sundown
High on the hill and above the town
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, oh how it would ring
You can hear it talk, you can hear it sing.
He played an old piece he called "Soldier's Joy"
And the one called "The Boston Boy"
The greatest of all was "Jenny Lynn"
To me that's where the fiddle begins.
REPEAT CHORUS
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.
REPEAT CHORUS
© 1951 Hill and Range Sings, Inc.
