The Old Gristmill
The Old Gristmill
(Not fit for the contest)
Way across the glen,
Many years gone passed
There lived a beauty of a women
With her fine little lass
Her daughter was a charmer
And could take me at will
To do a little grinding,
At the old Gristmill
Yes, those days seemed simple
Now that I am looking back
At how well she ground my corn
And the way she filled my sack
Times have really changed though
I buy cornmeal in a bag
And the girl from the Old Gristmill
Is now a mean old hag
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