Aunt Jean Froude

She used to be a Stamper, a sister of my dad's She was our closest neighbor when I was a young lad She'd be pumping pails of water by the old windmill Or working in her garden, she never sat still She was a hard-working woman, my Aunt Jean Froude She used to be a Stamper, then she married Harvey Froude My Uncle Harvey died so young, and when I think of him I'm proud Stooking sheaves, acre by acre, he had a team of horses and a studebaker And in the stone house cooking the meals, with two young daughters by her high heels She was a hard-working woman, my Aunt Jean Froude Martha and Janet, they learned a lot on that farm ABCs and math puzzles on the stalls of the barn Mud pies by the playhouse, watch out for baseball bats Sharp nails on teeter-totters, there's scars to prove that And it all went down at my Aunt Jean Froudes In the kitchen it was four leg's Jake I was buckshot Thought I could do whatever I wanted, she proved to me I could not I tried to crawl across her kitchen table, she slapped my butt, that's no fable Yeah, I learned a lot, and some things are never forgot Like that hard-working woman, my Aunt Jean Froude My Aunt Jean Froude My Aunt Jean Froude