The Writers' Corner ~ Down On The Farm

Grams and Gramps didn’t own a car,
They never set foot in a bar.
Hard work was all they knew,
About runnin’ and chasen’ they hadn’t a clue.

Chorus:

Down on the farm, they planted the garden,
They never did anything to ask for a pardon.

Grams and Gramps had eight kids,
Fun was washin' and dryin' cannin' lids.
What happened to the good old days,
When people worked till the sun’s last golden rays?

Chorus:

Down on the farm, they planted the garden,
They never did anything to ask for a pardon.

Church on Sunday in their cotton clothes,
Was the only rest they got from a week of woes.
Big dinner on the table where Grams ate last,
Fresh killed chicken and buttermilk in a glass.

Chorus:

Down on the farm, they planted the garden,
They never did anything to ask for a pardon.

Grams stood over the wash kettle with her stick,
Gramps was in the field where he didn’t miss a lick.
Children were busy with their daily chores,
No time to get in trouble or call anyone bores.

Chorus:

Down on the farm, they planted the garden,
They never did anything to ask for a pardon.

Now they are gone to heaven above,
Caught away on the wings of a dove.
Grams and Gramps were tough and true,
They were simple folks and hard work was all they knew.

Chorus:

Down on the farm, they planted the garden,
They never did anything to ask for a pardon.