Aug 2017
Smoke filled trailer in the middle of a field
Bellows out the windows drifts down the streets
Wraps its grey form around my grandmothers palms
I pass straight through it, and sink into her arms
Like there was nothing here but four walls of smoke
My tiny lungs they start to choke
Grandma pulled me close to her chest, ?Kissed my tiny head and said I love you the best
But my eyes had closed I didn’t ever hear those words?Now I dream about them like a haunting curse?
Try to remember the way she spoke, ?Her breath parted the air filled with smoke
I pray each night for peace and calm, ?So I can sink once again into my grandmother’s arms
She was getting old now, almost 43, ?In my dreams I see my grandma and me
Now in the form in which I stand today, ?Holding her in my arms so I can keep her safe?
No one’s ever going to take you from me
But then I rise each night from my sleep ?
Wipe those tears I’ve cried since I was ten
But smile knowing that next night you’ll be in my arms again
I must have been barely four; I stand in the middle of your trailer floor
Seeing your face through the bottom of a half bottle of wine
Smoke some more but there’s a look in your eyes
Like you’re ready for something more but you don’t know how
And it’s too late to change that path your on now
So you just drink a bottle of cherry every day ?Sixty **** will take the taste away
Smoking real hard since you was thirteen
My heavy smoking drinking darling grandma Jean
I was ten years old, we’d moved away ?In the garden of a brick house I laughed and played
A look of pain upon my mother’s face?Told me grandma had now gone to a kinder place
It was 98, she was 49, ?When someone took that grandma of mine ?That day the gods of pain embraced me tight, ?Tears soaked my body that July night ??Now there’s a rusty gypsy trailer in the middle of a field
Her spirit bellows out the windows and drifts down the street?And whenever I taste cherry or feel some smoke around me ?I feel my heavy smoking drinking darling grandma Jean
Bellows out the windows drifts down the streets
Wraps its grey form around my grandmothers palms
I pass straight through it, and sink into her arms
Like there was nothing here but four walls of smoke
My tiny lungs they start to choke
Grandma pulled me close to her chest, ?Kissed my tiny head and said I love you the best
But my eyes had closed I didn’t ever hear those words?Now I dream about them like a haunting curse?
Try to remember the way she spoke, ?Her breath parted the air filled with smoke
I pray each night for peace and calm, ?So I can sink once again into my grandmother’s arms
She was getting old now, almost 43, ?In my dreams I see my grandma and me
Now in the form in which I stand today, ?Holding her in my arms so I can keep her safe?
No one’s ever going to take you from me
But then I rise each night from my sleep ?
Wipe those tears I’ve cried since I was ten
But smile knowing that next night you’ll be in my arms again
I must have been barely four; I stand in the middle of your trailer floor
Seeing your face through the bottom of a half bottle of wine
Smoke some more but there’s a look in your eyes
Like you’re ready for something more but you don’t know how
And it’s too late to change that path your on now
So you just drink a bottle of cherry every day ?Sixty **** will take the taste away
Smoking real hard since you was thirteen
My heavy smoking drinking darling grandma Jean
I was ten years old, we’d moved away ?In the garden of a brick house I laughed and played
A look of pain upon my mother’s face?Told me grandma had now gone to a kinder place
It was 98, she was 49, ?When someone took that grandma of mine ?That day the gods of pain embraced me tight, ?Tears soaked my body that July night ??Now there’s a rusty gypsy trailer in the middle of a field
Her spirit bellows out the windows and drifts down the street?And whenever I taste cherry or feel some smoke around me ?I feel my heavy smoking drinking darling grandma Jean
