[Intro – Mouth-resonator Fiddle- Bwaaaang… twang-a-twang… bwaaang… Doo-dah, doo-dah, dee-ya-doo…] (Banjo rolls fade in) Bwaang… bwaang… [Verse 1] Down where the mountain meets the morning fog, Past the old mill wheel and the preacher's dog, There's a little dirt road winding through the pines, Where the fiddle starts crying when the sun declines. Grandpa's got a banjo with a weathered old case, Grandma's tapping time with a smile on her face, The mandolin's chopping and the bass strings ring, And everybody gathers when the mountain starts to sing. [Chorus] Oh, down the hollow where the fiddle sings, Hear that banjo roll and the old porch swing, Raise your voice high to the mountain moon, We'll be picking and grinning till the morning comes soon. From the creek bed stones to the ridge up high, We'll make that bluegrass shake the Tennessee sky, With a twang-a-twang and a bow-wow-bang, That's the sound of home when the mountain boys sang! [Verse 2] There's a coal-black kettle hanging over the fire, Old wooden porch and a homemade wire, Uncle Joe's stomping in his Sunday shoes, Playing that fiddle like he ain't got the blues. The moon shines silver on the cabin roof, Every note we play is mountain-truth proof, No fancy stage and no city lights, Just Appalachian music underneath the stars tonight. [Chorus] Oh, down the hollow where the fiddle sings, Hear that banjo roll and the old porch swing, Raise your voice high to the mountain moon, We'll be picking and grinning till the morning comes soon. From the creek bed stones to the ridge up high, We'll make that bluegrass shake the Tennessee sky, With a twang-a-twang and a bow-wow-bang, That's the sound of home when the mountain boys sang! [Instrumental Break] Banjo rolls → fiddle lead → mandolin chop → upright bass → banjo/fiddle trade-off [Bridge – Building] If you've never heard that mountain sound, Come on up and gather 'round, When that fiddle hits that high blue note, You'll feel those Appalachian hills in your throat! [Final Chorus – Fast Bluegrass] Down the hollow where the fiddle sings, Banjo rolling like it's got wings! Mountain moon shining, everybody's free, That's the way bluegrass was meant to be! From the holler floor to the mountain top, Pick it faster—don't you ever stop! With a twang-a-twang and a bow-wow-bang, That's the sound of home when the mountain boys sang! [Outro – Mouth Fiddle + Banjo] Bwaang… twang-a-twang… bwaaaang… Banjo roll fades… Bwaaang…
