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