Listen To The Stories

Track Number: 

John Farrell (Hope River Music)

I remember that cold Christmas morn
when I was nine years old.
All my family was at home
Except my Dad. He was off across
the ocean with a rifle in his hands
I never thought that Christmas day
could be so sad.

Listen to the stories that the elders
have to tell, of the good times and
the hard times they have known
For the stories that they give to us
Are pictures of the past
And maps to guide us as we travel on

I remember when the first car roared
through town and scared our horse
It was black and noisy oh, we
loved it so. Last year they drove
a car like that through town in
the parade, and the young ones
laughed because it looked so old

I remember when the steel mill
was the heartbeat of this town
Trains chugged in and out
Steam whistles screamed
Pat worked days and Jack worked
nights, we all worked ‘til the end
Now the mill’s shut down it all
seems like a dream.

I remember when I met your Granddad
He was young and strong
And the kindest, sweetest man I’d ever met
Now he’s old and cannot walk
Sometimes he doesn’t know my name
But his strength and kindness
We must not forget