My grandmother was a simple woman but she still had her stories


She once was captured by a photo black and white
Where all her life was etched in lines and honest in the light
And on her red coat a brooche her mother gave
It told the story of her life and sacrifices made

I was her grandson dressed in courdroy pants
I stood beside her as the good words she would chant
And they gave my life direction as I travelled in my dreams
To lands where people promised things not always what they seem

And now I feed the hunger for the man I need to be
Never to late to turn and walk back to my history
For even though the deeds are done salvation can be found
Upon the lips of others who have also trod this ground