[Verse 1]
He wore boots scuffed by gravel roads,
A Stetson hat stained by the years.
His voice was a hymn, low and slow,
That could calm a child's fears.
He worked the fields, sunburned and strong,
Taught me right from wrong.
[Chorus]
Oh, Granddad, I miss your steady hand,
The way you'd tell tales of a distant land.
A country boy turned soldier true,
You gave your all, and I owe it to you.
Oh, Granddad, I still walk in your boots.
[Verse 2]
The barn still leans where we stacked the hay,
Your old pocketknife's rusted, but it's mine today.
The banjo you played, it's gathering dust,
But its songs live in me; that's a sacred trust.
You said, "Life's a battle, but love's the truce."
[Prechorus]
The fireflies dance like the nights we knew,
Under that Tennessee moon.
[Chorus]
Oh, Granddad, I miss your steady hand,
The way you'd tell tales of a distant land.
A country boy turned soldier true,
You gave your all, and I owe it to you.
Oh, Granddad, I still walk in your boots.
[Bridge]
Now the fields feel bigger, the skies less kind,
Without your stories to ease my mind.
I hear your laugh in the wind, soft and low,
Guiding me where I need to go.