Hot summer days, pull’in plow, bale’in hay,
Fried chicken on Sundays, indeed!
We first go to church to offer our thanks,
And give side pork for the poor folk in need.
Pa works hard farm’in the small parcel he bought,
And Ma sews for rich folks in town.
Us kids do the chores and help in the fields,
Pick’in taters for two cents a pound.
Last year our cow "Elsa", gave birth to twins,
Their sell’in price got us through spring.
Ma bought candles to light, for our Saturday nights,
Watch’in little sister Meg as she sings.
She strums on the washboard and makes like she reads,
Every word in the Sears catalog.
Just a silly ol’ tune, just for fun then resume,
Warm’in up for her beautiful songs.
She can’t read a lick, cause she’s just a hick,
Who was raised-up right here on the farm,
With us sisters and brothers, tak’in care of each other
Made us a family, with old country charm.
Our whole family feels proud, when Megan sings right out loud
Ma and Pa are so pleased they could burst,
When they hear their child sing and our old farmhouse rings,
With the sound of Megan’s voice, verse by verse.
We ain’t had much school’in, nor did Ma and Pa,
But they learned us what’s wrong and what’s right.
Jesus blessed all us kin, with Megan’s song led by him,
Note by note, every Saturday night.
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