GRANNY’S SONG

When I was a young girl, my granny held me on her knee
She used to tell me stories about our great country

Stories about the riggin’ men and the cowboys true
About the winters so cold, turn your fingers blue

She taught me right from wrong, to be good to everyone
And to never leave a chore alone, until it has been done

Sometimes I could ride a horse, or go in a pickup truck
I thought that nobody else had ever had such luck

She would sing of the river red, and how she would long
For the range, and her man, my granddaddy, who was so strong

I would come from the city, filled with dirt and smog
Just to hear her sing, ride a swing, and play with the dog

Her love for me was so great, I could never pay her back
I did what I could for her, her hay I would help stack

So one day I asked a favour, to write the words to her song
To make sure that the old stories would be sure to live on

I wanted to make her proud, so she would know that one day there
I would go into the country, and sit upon a chair

I would take my child, and put her on my knee
And tell the same sweet stories, that my granny had told me

The stories will never die, they will go on and on
The memories are made fresh, they come alive in this song