On old Black Mountain, on Saturday night
Mountain boys are doin’ alright
From an old fruit jar they get on the jag
and a hootin’ up a tune called the Black Mountain Rag
Hey, over there’s a pretty little widder
Bet you five bucks that I’m a-gonna git ‘er
Gonna swing her round the corner and her feet won’t lag
When you’re hootin’ up a tune called the Black Mountain Rag
When the caller tips in the middle of the floor
Y’all join hands and circle four
A-la-main left and a-la-main right
Swing your honey and you hold her tight
All join hands and circle the wheel
The more you dance then the better you feel
Swing your honey and her feet won’t lag
When you’re hootin’ up a tune called the Black Mountain Rag
With a homemade fiddle and a shoestring bow
And a little bit of rythm of an old banjo
Give the fiddle a dram, and let it get right
Black Mountain is a rockin’ on Saturday night
Hey, over there’s a pretty little widder
Well I bet you five bucks that I’m a-gonna git ‘er
Gonna swing her round the corner and her feet won’t lag
When you’re hootin’ up a tune called the Black Mountain Rag