[Verse 1]
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
[Verse 2]
Well, the barman shakes his head and fills my glass
Says we're living in the past
"Why preserve a dying craft?
End its misery"
We sigh and say, "Another modern man
One of property, not land"
So, I'll hold out this battered hand
Will you listen?
[Chorus]
Come sit down, we're lamenting
About yesterday's sad ending
'Bout the water in me whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we're descending
Into old time memory
Of a day when wood was wooden
Silver, silver, gold was gold
Sweet home was home
[Verse 3]
So you say you 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 a throwback
When I cry, "Remember?"
[Chorus]
Come sit down, we're lamenting
About yesterday's sad ending
'Bout the water in me whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we're descending
Into old time memory
Of a day when wood was wooden
Silver, silver, gold was gold
Sweet home was home
[Instrumental Break]
[Verse 5]
Son, these tools are artifacts
Endangered species left its tracks
So lock me up behind plastic glass in the city
There's no going back for me
This antique's rustic eulogy
Shall be sold as folk artistry, such a pity
[Verse 6]
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
Luxury boxes where you're stored in what was country
[Chorus]
Ah, come sit down, we're lamenting
About yesterday's sad ending
'Bout the water in me whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we're descending
Into old time memory
Of a day when wood was wooden
Silver, silver, gold was gold
Another round, we're lamenting
About yesterday's sad ending
'Bout the water in me whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we're descending
Into old time memory
[Outro]
Of a day when wood was wooden
Silver, silver, gold was gold
Sweet home was home
Olde Tyme Mem’ry was written by Erik Petersen.