Nina Jo Smith - The Grandmother

The Grandmother
Words & Music by Nina Jo Smith (BMI)
(c) 2018 Redwood River Music (BMI)

She pulled the curtain to one side
Heard the shout, the shots, the cry
The smell of fear cut through her yard
The sound of footsteps falling hard.
She reached for him, her outstretched hand
Could not touch the small young man
The shout, the shots, the keening cry
The grandmother at her window, standing by.

His life was short, his future wide,
Two small children by his side
Carousels and backyard swings.
Grandma's voice like angel wings.
Darkness flows through backyard gates
Grandmas peer through windows and wait
Cars patrol in black and white
Lights and sirens pierce the night.

Chopper blades hack through the air
In black and white he's lying there,
Barely time to be afraid
No men in blue come to his aid.

Grandma's voice like angel wings
Says his name, remembering
How she taught hymns like grandmas will
Now his pulse, his breath, his voice are still.


Ooh…

I read the words, I felt the sounds,
His body lying on the ground
She says his name, you know it still;
Says it again, you always will.
I thought by now we would have changed,
Our history could be rearranged.
Kill, don't capture, makes no sense
A young black man coming home through his back fence.
But white men are still primed to kill
Black men who move or who stand still.
The shout, the shots, the keening cry,
The grandmother at her window, standing by

She pulls the curtain to one side,
Hears the shout, the shots, the cry.
Coming home is not a crime.
Coming home is not a crime.
Ooh…

She pulled the curtain to one side
Heard the shout, the shots, the cry
The smell of fear cut through her yard
The sound of footsteps falling hard.


In memory of Stephon Clark and in honor of his surviving family members.