Sitting in grandma's kitchen, a young man with his dreams,
I asked her about the old times, when cowboys still were kings.
Did men ride tall in the saddle, comin' far across the plains?
Were fences few and herds ran wild till driven to the trains?
No child, what I recall are hard days, baking in the sun;
Grandpa and me working side by side until the day was done
Working to get all the crops in, praying for rain, not hail.
Hoping the markets would finally rise, when time came for a sale.
Expecting to make a little profit, two years out of five,
Living on hope and a banker's note, that's how we all survived.
No guarantee of a paycheck, only hard work and our pride
Saw us through each season from the time I was just a bride
Held on through the depression when gardens meant survival
Being thankful for what we did have, not envying a rival.
Threshing crews and dinner at noon with all the neighbors gathered
Men eating pie in the shade of a tree, horses hot and lathered.
I remember milking twice a day all the years we were able,
We kept the cans cold in the cream house, down near the stable.
Only one vacation our whole lives, our investment in the soil
Sloth was not tolerated, for our lives were bound to toil
We didn't know any other way than living free and strong
And taught our kids the difference between the right and wrong.
It was a good life but I would never wish it on any of my grands,
The life I led left its harsh mark on my back and on my hands.
Stay in school, get a good job and settle in a town
With grocery stores and churches, and your family all around.
Grow your family, keep them safe, and son please don't gamble,
On a patch of ground out in the sticks grown up in thorns and bramble
Sitting in his kitchen, an old man dreams in town
Thinking of the days gone by when Stetson hats were crowns
Sipping on his coffee, staring at his dish
Thinkin' on what might have been., cause grandma got her wish.