The Back Porch And A Fruit Jar Full Of Iced Tea

Traditional arrangement by Michael Nesmith

Along came the F.F.V., the swiftest on the line

She was running down the C&O road just twenty-five minutes behind

Running into Sewall, the headquarters on the line

And receiving very strict orders from the station right behind

Georgie's mother came to him, her bucket on her arm

And she said "My darling son, be careful how you run

There's many a man that's lost his life just trying to make lost time

But if you run your engine right you'll get there right on time"

Up the tracks she darted, and into a rock she crashed

Upside down the engine turned and poor Georgie's head was smashed

His head lay against the firebox door and the flames were running high

And he said, "I'm proud to be born for an engineer with C&O road to die"

The doctor said to Georgie, "My darling boy, be still

Your life may yet be saved if it is God's precious will"

"Oh no" cried he, "That will not do - I'd rather die so free

I want to die for the engine I love: One hundred and forty-three"

The doctor said to Georgie, "Your life cannot be saved"

He was murdered on a railway and laid in a lonesome grave

And his eyes were covered up with blood and his eyes they could not see

So the very last words poor Georgie cried were, "Nearer my God to thee"

Uncle Pen

written by Bill Monroe

Late in the evening at about sundown

High on the hill, up above the town

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lordy, how it would ring

You could hear it talk and you could hear it sing

Oh the people come from far away

Dance all night till the break of day

When the caller hollered the "Do-si-do"

You knew Uncle Pen was ready to go

Late in the evening at about sundown

High on the hill, up above the town

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lordy, how it would ring

You could hear it talk and you could hear it sing

He played a tune they called the "Soldier's Joy"

And the one that they called the "Boston Boy"

The greatest of all was the "Jennie Lynn"

To me, that's where good fiddlin' begins

Late in the evening at about sundown

High on the hill, up above the town

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lordy, how it would ring

You could hear it talk and you could hear it sing

I'll never forget that mournful day

When old Uncle Pen was called away

He hung up his fiddle and he hung up his bow

And he knew it was time for him to go

Late in the evening at about sundown

High on the hill, up above the town

Uncle Pen played the fiddle, Lordy, how it would ring

You could hear it talk and you could hear it sing

You could hear it sing

You could hear it sing

A'you could hear it sing

You could hear it sing