Grandma made the quilts that covered us each night.
She sewed the pieces together with needle thread & might.
She made the feather bed where we lay our selves down
The pillows stuffed with feathers, were passed all around.
We were tucked in and covered, clear up to our nose
Till we looked like a cocoon from our head down to our toes.
We slept warm and snug in that ol' cast iron bed, with springs
That would squeak every time you moved your head.
Many quilts were piled high, hot bricks for your toes.
Some Vicks upon your chest, your back and up your nose.
You'd lie there warm as toast, till nature would kick in,
Unwrapped you would be then do it all again.
There were so many quilts that if you moved and squirmed
You'd be liable to get tangled at least until you learned.
But the very worst thing I think that you could do
Would be to turn over with so many covers on you.
One night I flopped and flounced moving all about
Lifting up those covers and that's when I found out.
When you are weighted down with covers and you try to move,
Your like to wind up on the cold floor with them on top of you!!!!
