When I was a little boy, barefooted I'd like to go. In the spring or summertime, there was no ice or snow.
When I was tired and nearly dead, these are the words that mama said, go and wash those dirty feet before you go to bed.
When I would get out of school, I could hardly wait. I'd have my brogans in my hand before I'd hit the gate.
I'd romp and play till nearly dead, that same old line mama always said, go and wash those dirty feet before you go to bed.
When winter's passed and the violets flew, and the springtime rolled around,
my tiny little girl said, go and wash those dirty feet before you go to bed.

My dirty feet got to itching so to touch the cool, cool ground.
But I remember what mama said, those words still echo through my head, go and wash those dirty feet before you go to bed.
I'd draw the water from the well and grab the old wash pan, just a fussing and a fuming like any ordinary man.
But if I brushed them off instead, mama would make my bottom red, go and wash those dirty feet before you go to bed.