Olden Days

Grandpa used to tell me 'bout the olden days
How he used to walk to school up hill both ways
He'd set me down right there upon his knee
And I'd hang on to every word that Grandpa'd say to me

He'd reminisce out loud about when bread was just a dime
I sat there wide open eyes, traveling through time
To a day when gas was cheaper than the price of dirt by far
But that was back before the wheel, let alone the car

He told us fishing stories about when he used to sail
Somehow the fish got bigger every time he'd tell the tale
Grandma told us how he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn
And how she would knit the sweaters while Grandpa spun the yarn

Grandpa was a hunter, quite a marksman in fact
Said he once took down a buck with his gun behind his back
Told me once out on the field he had a golden arm
But he turned down the big leagues for he would not leave the farm

Grandpa never claimed to be a lady's man, he'd say
But he broke a heart or two or three or four back in his day
Grandma didn't mind Grandpa telling his white lies
The truth is where it matters, you could see it in his eyes

In the days that followed after Grandpa died
We ate too much and laughed a little more than we cried
Grandma told us how he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn
And how she would knit the sweaters while Grandpa spun the yarn

Grandpa told me life was hard when he was a young lad
Sometimes he thought the good would never catch up to the bad
But he worked hard and loved and he gave thanks and he gave praise
And he lived a life without regret back in the olden days

In the months that followed after Grandpa died
We drank too much and laughed a little more than we cried
Grandma told us how he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn
And how she would knit the sweaters while Grandpa spun the yarn
She would knit the sweaters while Grandpa spun the yarn