Bill Monroe

Bill Monroe (G)

I wasn’t born beneath the pines, My daddy never worked the mines

I never washed in the blood of the lamb, I never smelled that country ham

I tell you darlin’ true, My grass was green but never blue

I lived a life of sin, I never played the mandolin

Ch:

Tell me why I’ll never know

I never played with Bill Monroe

Was it just a twist of fate?

Three thousand miles and forty years too late

I couldn’t make a fiddle moan, In my Blue Ridge cabin home

I wish just now and then that I was kin to Uncle Penn

When I was five or six or so I never held a fiddle bow

I never really had a fair chance, I never played at any square dance

Though I was born in London Town, I love that high and lonesome sound

I came from down the smoke, I never hailed from Roanoke

I should have bought that Mastertone, I should have called Bill on the phone

For that music I’m really falling; Bill Monroe, can’t you hear me calling


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