I 'll sing to you of the good old time
When people were honest and true
Before their brains were rattled and crazed
By everything strange and new
When every man was a workingman
And earned his livelihood
And the women were smart and industrious
And lived for their families' good

In the days of Andrew Jackson
And of old grand-daddy Grimes
A man wasn't judged by the clothes he wore
In old pod-auger times

Young men, they loaf about the street
And struggle with had cigars
They stay out late when they should be at home
With their daddies and their mas
They wear tight trousers, likewise tight boots
And guzzle Lager beer
And when their daddies foot up the bills
They call them pesky dear
When my old men were farmer's boys
We'd neither dollars nor dimes
We worked from daybreak 'til candlelight
In old pod-auger times

Young girls didn't hug nor kiss their fellows
Whenever they came to court
Nor paddle around on roller skates 
Nor pound a pianoforte
They kept their men at a good arm's length
And made them know their place
And they played upon washboards and "kittles" and brooms
With amazing skill and grace
They didn't lay a-bed 'til eleven A.M.
Got up in the morning betimes
They didn't elope with the old man's coachman
In old pod-auger times

In the days of Andrew Jackson
And of old grand-daddy Grimes
A man wasn't judged by the clothes he wore
In old pod-auger times

Oh, the young men didn't drive fast horses
Nor gamble with cards and dice
They didn't run church lotteries
It wasn't considered nice
But now they gamble and drink mean rum
And lead hypocritical lives
And wives run away with each other's husbands
And husbands with other men's wives
Folks didn't have delirium tremens
Nor perpetrate horrible crimes
For the cider was good and the rum was pure
In old pod-auger times

In the days of Andrew Jackson
And of old grand-daddy Grimes
A man wasn't judged by the clothes he wore
In old pod-auger times