The Old Gristmill

The Old Gristmill (Not fit for the contest) Way across the glen, Many years gone passed There lived a beauty of a women With her fine little lass Her daughter was a charmer And could take me at will To do a little grinding, At the old Gristmill Yes, those days seemed simple Now that I am looking back At how well she ground my corn And the way she filled my sack Times have really changed though I buy cornmeal in a bag And the girl from the Old Gristmill Is now a mean old hag