Music Video

Part of Me Still Lives in Georgia
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Matchcoats
The Matchcoats
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Gary L. Greene
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 Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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