Lyrics by Tom Sharp, based on “Aunt Hazel” by Tom Sharp. (Open ukelele chords are shown in superscript. For instrumental measures, the strums are shown, D for down and U for up.)
EmDo you think, brother mine, Fwhen we get Dmold, EmDU D FDU D DmD D D AmD Fwe’ll get sentimental Dmabout Aunt AmHazel? FDU D DmDU D AmD D D EmD EmRemember she baked those Fsweet sticky Dmrolls Gmthat she kept in a large DmTupperware Amtub, GmDU D DmDU D AmD D D FD FMom would take us all there Ato visit Amher Gmstaying Sunday Ftill cows came Dmhome? GmDU D FDU D DmD D D EmD EmYes, her hair was short and thin. AmShe was always short of breath, GmHope she wouldn’t Dmtake offense Dmbut she was fat, Amand her smiles Gmcrinkled in the corners of Dmher light blue Ameyes, GmDU D DmDU D AmD D D EmD Gmplaying rummy Dmall day with AmMom. GmDU D DmDU D AmD D D FD EmAll her family they had grown Fand moved aDmway. EmDU D FDU D DmD D D AmD FHer first husband he had Dmdied, left her Amthere. FDU D DmDU D AmD D D EmD [slower, downstrokes only] EmShe lived in an Amold country, Gm[upstrokes for second syllables] where women worked but never had Fjobs. GmDU D DmDU D AmD D D FD FAcross the road the Aredwood Amtrees Gmgrew in rings aFround huge flat Dmstumps. GmDU D FDU D DmD D D EmD EmI guess she wasn’t fatalistic, Ambecause she loved to gamble. GmShe and her girlfriends they Dmnever missed Ambingo. FOnce after she drove off the Aroad in her AmFord, FDU D DmDU D AmD D D EmD Emshe told me that she just bounced Faround inDmside Gmas it rolled it’s way down Fthe mountain Dmside. GmDU D FDU D DmD D D EmD EmRemember the goat that she had Ftied to the Dmbush EmDU D FDU D DmD D D AmD Fon the side of the hill Dmbehind the Amhouse? FDU D DmDU D AmD D D EmD EmUp and down the bank it climbed Feating the Dmhazel. GmTold my friends that this was Dmthe way that Amshe Fgot her name, hazel shrubs, Abehind her Amhouse Gmand that she always lived Fin that old Dmhouse. GmDU D FDU D DmD D D EmD We swung on the tire under her walnut tree. I remember peeling black tarry shells off walnuts that had fallen to the dirt, little white worms wriggling in the tar, and when I cracked a shell with a rusted hammer, the nut was green and bitter. There was a room over her garage that was full of moldy boxes and cans of rusty nails. Uncle Raymond used to live there. Bees had nested in the wall and they had to tear it down to get them out. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t like the place. It was a four-room shack with peeling wallpaper, several layers of linoleum on the floor, dirt on the windowsills, and Elbert, her husband, who didn’t talk, watched television in the dark living room. I’m afraid I’ll forget these things, or they’ll get all stuck together. FI’m afraid I’ll forget Dmwhere I put Amthem, or leave them behind when I move. As I get older, a larger and larger past has to fit into the same shoe box.