| Uncle Pen |
| Buck Owens |
| Late in the evenin' about sundown |
| High on the hill and above the town |
| Uncle Pen played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring |
| You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing. |
| Well, the people would come from far away |
| They'd dance all night till the break of day |
| When the caller hollered do-se-do |
| We knew Uncle Pen was ready to go. |
| Late in the evenin' about sundown |
| High on the hill and above the town |
| Uncle Pen played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring |
| You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing. |
| Well, he played an old tune called Soldier's Joy |
| And the one they called Boston Boy |
| The greatest of all was Jenny Lind |
| To me, that's where the fiddlin' began. |
| Late in the evenin' about sundown |
| High on the hill and above the town |
| Uncle Pen played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring |
| You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing. |
| Solo(Fiddle) |
| Well, I'll never forget that mournful day |
| When Uncle Pen was called away |
| Hang up his fiddle, hang up his bow |
| Knew it was time for him to go. |
| Late in the evenin' about sundown |
| High on the hill and above the town |
| Uncle Pen played the fiddle and oh, how it would ring |
| You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing... |