MUSIC FOR SALE

There’s a little white house on Willow Lane.
Where the screen door creaks in the summer rain.
There is Flower on the counter, and the radio low.
The Coffee on the stove where the warm winds blow.
You could smell that kitchen half a mile away.
And the Biscuits are risin’ with the break of day.
If you were hungry, or just passin’ through.
Grandma always had a plate for you.

[10 sec Instrunetal]

[Pre-Chorus]
Her Apron strings and her gentle smile.
Made the hard days always rest awhile.

[Chorus]
Grandma’s table never closed,
that old screen door was always wide.
Fried chicken on the skillet,
sweet tea sittin by the side.
From the church bake sale to the town parade.
She fed every heart God ever made.
No coin or notes ever changed hands
Cause Grandma’s gift we all understand.

[10 sec instrumental]

Verse 2
Police stop by about half past noon.
Firemen came when the storms would bloom.
The school kids lined up after the game.
Grandma remembered every single name.
The casseroles for the charity drive.
And the pies to keep the old hall alive.
If the town had a need she’d roll up her sleeves.
And turn that flour into memories.

[10 sec instrumental]

[Pre-Chorus]
Her hands are worn, but strong as stone.
She built a family bigger than home.

10 sec instrumental]

[Chorus]
Grandma’s table never closed,
that old screen door was always wide.
Fried chicken on the skillet,
sweet tea sittin by the side..
From the church bake sale to the town parade.
She fed every heart God ever made.
No coin or notes ever changed hands
Cause Grandma’s gift we all understand.

[Bridge]
[prominent Violin]
Now the porch light glows in the evening shade.
And we still cook the recipes she made
When the whole town gathers, someone always says
“This tastes just like what Grandma did.”

[Final Chorus][Banjo][Violin}
Grandma’s table never closed
Her kindness lives in the meals we’re holdin’
Gravy, grace and a heart of gold
Still feedin’ this town though the years have rolled.
From lonely souls to lifelong friends.
Her love keeps showin’ up again.
Yeah the whole world felt like home, I suppose.
At Grandma’s table that never closed.