When I was a little bitty boy,
Chicken pie and country ham,
homemade butter on the bread
But the best darn thing about
was the great big feather bed
It was nine feet high and six feet wide,
soft in the downing shape
It was made from the feathers
Took a whole but a clock for the tick
And a bee we stole from the shed
After supper we'd sit around the fire
The old folks bit and chew
And Granny sing a ballad or two
I'd sit and listen and watch the fire
Till the cobwebs filled my head
In the middle of the old fellow bed
It was nine feet high and six feet wide
That soft pussy down in the chic
It was made from the feathers
Took a hold, what a clock, what a tick
Let it hold eight kids, four hound dogs
and a piggy we stole from the shed
Well I love Pamar and I love my Parle
I love my Granny and Grandpa too
I've been fishing with my cousin
and I wrestled with my uncle
But if I ever had to make a choice,
guess it ought to be said
I'd trade them all, plus the gal in the robe,
for Grandma's favourite bed
I'd trade them all, plus the gal in the robe
I'll have to think twice about that
It was nine feet high and six feet wide,
It was made from the feathers
took a hob or a clock for the tent
It'd hold eight kids and four hound dogs,
and a bee was stole from the shed
We didn't get much sleep,
We didn't get much sleep,
4.9
