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Erik Petersen - Olde Tyme Mem'ry
Robert Blake / Erik Petersen
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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When father bought the farm
we sold the farm
Mistook his blood for rustic charm
sold his ghost as an antique,
to the city
and kids today can't hold a spade
rest in peace your weary trades
in this world there is no place such a pity
while the barman shakes his head
and fills my glass,
says we're livin' in the past
why preserve a dying craft end its, misery
We sigh and see another modern man
one of property not land
so ill hold out this batattered hand
Will you listen?
come sit down we're lamenting
about yesterdays sad ending
about the water in your whiskey
the brass passed off as gold
another round
we're descending into old time mem'ry
of a day when wood was wooden
silver silver gold was gold
sweet home was home
so you say you've got a wood stove in your second home
runs on gas but looks like oak
hell it even gives off smoke and glowing embers
there's a quilt hung on the wall reads home sweet home
Below, some wise words from Thoreau
and they call me throwback when i cry remember
come sit down we're lamenting
about yesterdays sad ending about the water in your whiskey
the brass passed off as gold
another round
we're descending into old time mem'ry
of a day when wood was wooden
silver silver gold was gold
sweet home was home
son these tools are artifacts
endangered species left it's tracks
lock me up behind plastic glass in the city
there's no going back for me
this antiques rustic eulogy
shall be sold as folk artistry such a pity
but i'll never understand why they all long to use those hands
to build a stead that will always stand in old time country
but settle for white rooms and hollow doors
paper ceilings padded floors
luxary boxes where your stored in what was country
come sit down we're lamenting
about yesterdays sad ending
about the water in your whiskey
the brass passed off as gold
another round
we're descending into old time mem'ry
of a day when wood was wooden silver silver gold was gold
another round
We're lamenting about yesterdays sad ending
about the water in your whiskey
the brass passed off as gold
another round
we're descending into old time mem'ry
of a day when wood was wooden
silver silver gold was gold sweet home was home
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