It was late in the evenin' just a few of us pickin', but the lady she played so easy and fine. And the chords that she strummed were so tastefully clever, they planted this song in my mind. Cause there's somethin' so feminine, about a mandolin; the way that they feel, the way that they ring. Just to see slender fingers, movin' so fluid, made this poor heart to sing. And when I get older and I have a daughter, I'll teach her to sing, and play her my song And I'll tell her some stories I can barely remember And hope that she will sing along. Maybe one day she'll take a fancy to pickin', 'Cause when that bug bites you, you live with the string. And if she could just strum a few simple measures She could make some young man sing. Cause there's somethin' so feminine about a mandolin. The way that they feel, the way that they ring. And that evening in a pasture, somewhere near Austin. That mandolin made me sing, Her mandolin made me sing.