Greg Ryder: Downloads

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)

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It was the smell of a summer afternoon.
It was a Sunday dinner almost done.
It wasn’t much,
Just the way Mamma used to do it.
Breakfast, Church, then a chicken fry
Couldn’t wait for the cherry pie.
It wasn’t much,
Just the way Mamma used to do it.
Mamma used to do it like that.
Mamma used to do it like that.
It wasn’t much,
Just the way Mamma liked to do it.

It was the way that he walked a piece of ground.
He’d never swear, he’d never smile.
It wasn’t much,
Just the way Daddy used to do it.
He’d never like to go to town.
He just worked like hell till the sun went down.
It wasn’t much,
Just the way Daddy used to do it.
Daddy used to do it like that.
Daddy used to do it like that.
It wasn’t much,
Just the way Daddy liked to do it.

They’ve both been dead and gone for years.
Bought the farm in ‘45.
It wasn’t much.
There wasn’t really nuthin’ to it.
If you live so good you don’t get old,
You just disappear.
God rest your soul.
It’s not much,
But it’s the way I’m a gonna do it.
Mamma used to do it like that.
Daddy used to do it like that.
Mamma used to do it like that.
Daddy used to do it like that.
It wasn’t much,
Just the way Mamma used to do it.
Just the way Mamma liked to do it.