Lyrics

Stories

Born in the winter of ’14, third child of three
Two brothers fought the great war, she’s the only one that made it past eighteen
Cut from hardy stock shaped by a life; that at it’s best was hard,
And at it’s worst was hell
...Oh the stories that she’d tell

Steam trains and dirt roads, the model t she never learned to drive
Lean times and bread lines, after the crash of ’29
Told me “times were tough, but we were too”, Daddy did all he could do,
but we lost him, lost the farm as well
…Oh the stories that she’d tell

Pages in time,
books on a shelf
read between the lines,
you might find yourself

Her eyes got misty when she talked of how she loved a young GI
How they made big plans, how he never made it home, and how she cried
She said “back then folks looked down upon, girls with babies on their own”
But your grandpaw came along and all was well
... Oh the stories that she’d tell

Pages in time,
books on a shelf
read between the lines,
you might find yourself

Livin’ by the wisdom in her words,
I wrote a story on my own
She’s always been the voice inside my heart,
the guiding light that leads me on…

But the march of time won’t be denied,
And I can’t count the tears I’ve cried
Withered hands upon this weathered stone
Thirty years now come and gone

Chorus, Repeat chorus