When I was young and small we used to go to
Spend the week end at Grandpa's farm
He had animals and mostly horses though
One particular one was white and bright
He was the favored one he was alright
All my cousins were there for the weekends as well
We played in the wood as we often do
What we did no one could tell
Made little huts and ate there too
When one of us kids did something wrong
Grandpa would talk to Mama and the game was on
So as I walked back to the house
I knew I had done something wrong
Grandpa would whistle at his white horse without a shout
I was caught in the middle between the house and the horse
Ran as fast as I could and quickly jumped through the door
One day we all were bored and Grandpa made a fire in a can
We all stood around as Grandpa told a story and how it begin
I really miss my grandpa and wish he was still here
Our Grandpa loved us for us he would always be there
Every now and then I still think of those days
Now I am a Grandpa and will adopt all his ways.
