Olde Tyme Mem'ry
Mischief Brew Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

When Father bought the farm, we sold the farm
Mistook his blood for rustic charm
Sold his ghost as an antique
To the city

Kids today can't hold a spade
Rest in peace your weary trades
In this world there is no place
Such a pity

Well, the barman shakes his head and fills my glass
Says 'We're living in the past.
Why preserve a dying craft?
End its misery.'

We sigh and see another modern man
One of property, not land
So I hold out this battered hand
Will you listen?

Come sit down, we're lamenting about yesterday's sad ending
'Bout the water in me whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we're descending into old tyme mem'ry
Of a day when wood was wooden, silver-silver, gold was gold
Sweet home was home

So you say you got a wooden stove in your second home
Runs on gas, but looks like oak
Hell, it even gives off smoke and glowing embers

There's a quilt hung on the wall, reads 'Home, Sweet Home'
Below some wise words from Thoreau
And they call me throwback; when I cry I remember

Come sit down, we're lamenting about yesterday's sad ending
'Bout the water in me whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we're descending into old tyme mem'ry
Of a day when wood was wooden, silver-silver, gold was gold
Sweet home was home

Son, these tools are artifacts
Endangered species left its tracks
So lock me up behind plastic glass in the city

There's no going back for me
This antique's rustic eulogy
Shall be sold as folk artistry, such a pity

But I'll never understand why they all only use those hands
To build a stead that will always stand
In old time country

But settle for white rooms and hollow doors
Paper ceilings, padded floors
Luxury boxes where you're stored; and what was country?

Come sit down, we're lamenting about yesterday's sad ending
'Bout the water in me whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we're descending into old tyme mem'ry
Of a day when wood was wooden, silver-silver, gold was gold

Another round, we're lamenting about yesterday's sad ending
'Bout the water in me whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we're descending into old tyme mem'ry





Of a day when wood was wooden, silver-silver, gold was gold
Sweet home was home

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Mischief Brew's "Olde Tyme Mem'ry" speaks about the loss of traditional and rural ways of life in modern times. The song aims to lament this loss and criticize the modernization that has made people forget about their roots. The lines "When Father bought the farm, we sold the farm/Mistook his blood for rustic charm" highlights the disconnection between the younger generation and the rural way of life. The people are more interested in urban settings and have forgotten that the land is the foundation of the rural existence. The line "Kids today can't hold a spade/Rest in peace your weary trades/In this world there is no place" shows how the younger generation is not exposed to traditional trades anymore.


The song portrays the shift of value from the quality of raw materials to the quality of the finished products. The lines "So you say you got a wooden stove in your second home/Runs on gas, but looks like oak" emphasize how people value the appearance rather than the substance. The song highlights the irony in desiring a rustic look in modern homes through modern means. The line "There's no going back for me/This antique's rustic eulogy/Shall be sold as folk artistry, such a pity" expresses how the younger generation uses the old ways of life as an inspiration, but the value of these traditions is reduced to a commodity in the modern world.


Line by Line Meaning

When Father bought the farm, we sold the farm
We mistakenly thought that our father's legacy was of no use, so we sold his farm


Mistook his blood for rustic charm
We overlooked the toil and effort our father put into his rustic lifestyle and saw it only as a quaint and nostalgic charm


Sold his ghost as an antique
We sold his memory as a relic of the past, just another antique to be sold in the city


To the city
We sold our father's memory to people indifferent to it, in the city


Kids today can't hold a spade
Today's children are less interested in traditional lifestyles and crafts, and are unable to work on a farm or handle a spade


Rest in peace your weary trades
May the traditional trades, that are now dying, rest in peace


In this world there is no place
In today's world, traditional trades have no place or value


Such a pity
It is unfortunate that traditional lifestyles and trades have faded out


Well, the barman shakes his head and fills my glass
The barman disapproves of my sentimentality and fills my glass


Says 'We're living in the past.
The barman tells me that my nostalgia for traditional trades is outdated and irrelevant


Why preserve a dying craft?
The barman wonders why anyone would want to preserve and revive traditional trades that are no longer sustainable


End its misery.'
The barman suggests that it is better to let traditional trades die out than to prolong their inevitable demise


We sigh and see another modern man
We are disheartened by the growing number of people who value modern comfort and luxury over traditional lifestyles


One of property, not land
The modern man values property ownership more than traditional land ownership


So I hold out this battered hand
I beseech the modern man to listen and understand the value of traditional trades


Will you listen?
I ask the modern man if he will heed my words and honor the traditions of the past


Come sit down, we're lamenting about yesterday's sad ending
We gather to mourn the loss of traditional lifestyles and trades that ended in the past


'Bout the water in me whiskey
We commiserate over how even the simple pleasures of the past, such as drinking whiskey, are now adulterated and less authentic


The brass passed off as gold
We recall how even the materials used in the past were pure and unadulterated, unlike today's fake and imitation materials


Another round, we're descending into old tyme mem'ry
We continue to reminisce and indulge in nostalgia for the past


Of a day when wood was wooden, silver-silver, gold was gold
We remember a time when materials were authentic and pure, without any synthetic or fake substitutes


Sweet home was home
We recall how our homes were once genuinely sweet and welcoming, unlike modern homes that are impersonal and commercialized


So you say you got a wooden stove in your second home
We mock the modern man who tries to imitate traditional lifestyles, by boasting about a wooden stove in his second home


Runs on gas, but looks like oak
We ridicule the modern man for using modern, fake materials to mimic traditional ones


Hell, it even gives off smoke and glowing embers
We mock the modern man for trying to recreate the ambiance of a fire in a modern, artificial way


There's a quilt hung on the wall, reads 'Home, Sweet Home'
We remember the simple, heartfelt decor of the past, such as a quilt that reads 'Home, Sweet Home'


Below some wise words from Thoreau
We recall the wisdom of famous writers and thinkers from the past, such as Thoreau


And they call me throwback; when I cry I remember
Despite being mocked and labeled as old-fashioned, we still cannot forget and stop longing for the traditions of the past


Son, these tools are artifacts
We understand the historical value and significance of traditional tools


Endangered species left its tracks
Traditional trades are now endangered and dying out, and their impact can still be seen in the world


So lock me up behind plastic glass in the city
We lament the commodification and commercialization of traditional trades, which are now sold behind plastic glass in the city


There's no going back for me
We accept that we can never truly return to the traditional ways of the past


This antique's rustic eulogy
We honor and mourn the loss of traditional trades through the artifacts and antiques that remain


Shall be sold as folk artistry, such a pity
The only way to preserve the spirit of traditional trades now is through selling them as folk art, but this is still a sad and regrettable outcome


But I'll never understand why they all only use those hands
We cannot fathom why modern people only use their hands for materialism and comfort, and not to work hard and sustainably on the land


To build a stead that will always stand
We wonder why modern people only build structures that serve as temporary homes, rather than building sustainable and lasting homesteads


In old time country
We refer to the traditional country lifestyle that once celebrated hard work, sustainability, and simplicity


But settle for white rooms and hollow doors
We criticize modern people for settling for soulless and superficial homes, devoid of character or history


Paper ceilings, padded floors
We mock modern homes for using fake and synthetic materials that do not come close to the authenticity of the past


Luxury boxes where you're stored; and what was country?
Modern homes are like luxury boxes that trap people, and they no longer know or value the true meaning of country life




Contributed by Hannah E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
To comment on or correct specific content, highlight it

Genre not found
Artist not found
Album not found
Song not found

More Versions