Top Songs By The Matchcoats
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Matchcoats
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Gary L. Greene
Songwriter
Lyrics
Used on Thoughts of Home by The Matchcoats with permission.
As a boy, I loved to go to the country,
Where my granny and granddaddy lived.
We played in the barn
And fished in the pond,
And lived on the love that only they could give.
The nights, they were quiet and peaceful.
The days, they were happy and free.
We played on the tractor,
And the barn rang with laughter
Climbed in the loft, and got chased out by bees.
Part of me still lives in Georgia,
Though I never called it my home.
We ran and we played
In my childhood days
On the farm where my Daddy was born.
Granny was a little lump of sugar;
Wore a bun on the top of her head.
And all through the night,
With the quilts piled so high,
I couldn't move when she'd tucked me in bed.
Granddaddy had a heart soft and gentle
He smiled with a deep love for Granny.
Kept a bucket of coal
By the pot-bellied stove.
Let us ride on an old horse named Annie.
He gave us silver dollars at Christmas.
I think I still own two or three,
And a big pocket knife
That I've kept all my life.
Cut my finger the same day he gave it to me.
Uncle Willie loved to smoke on old stogies,
But mostly he chewed on the end.
He told stories and jokes
About family and folks
And talked about places that I'd never been.
Aunt Inez worked in the bakery,
Sometimes brought us donuts and pies,
But the dear little lady
Was sweeter than the pastry,
And love for the family shone in her eyes.
Uncle Johnny used to box when he was younger;
His nose showed he was hit now and then.
On Saturday nights,
We'd listen to the fights
And throw punches at Uncle Johnny's hands.
Aunt Louise raised ginnies and flowers,
And she cooked the best food I ever ate.
She was sweet as could be
To my brothers and me,
I'll remember and love her to my dying day.
Granddaddy grew awful lonesome.
He grieved after Granny was gone.
He couldn't hear too well,
And He was lonely, you could tell;
He cried every time we would leave to go home.
And memories were made
In my childhood days
On the farm where my Daddy was born.
Writer(s): Gary L. Greene
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