[Verse 1]
Grandma’s hands, they stitched my jeans,
Wiped my tears, and cooked up dreams.
She’d hum a hymn while kneading dough,
The scent of biscuits, love in tow.
Her garden grew more than greens—
It grew the heart of who I’d be.
[Chorus]
Take me back to the screen porch swing,
Where the crickets played, and she would sing.
Her voice was soft, her heart so wide,
She raised me up, she was my guide.
I’d give the world to turn the page,
To live again those golden days.
[Verse 2]
She’d sew quilts on winter nights,
Taught me wrong from right, by firelight.
Her stories wove the past with care,
Her laughter danced on evening air.
With every hug, she gave me more,
A quiet strength, a sturdy core.
[Prechorus]
She said, “Child, the world needs love,
Like rain falling gentle from above.”
[Chorus]
Take me back to the screen porch swing,
Where the crickets played, and she would sing.
Her voice was soft, her heart so wide,
She raised me up, she was my guide.
I’d give the world to turn the page,
To live again those golden days.
[Bridge]
Her hands, so weathered, yet so kind,
Gave all she had, left none behind.
She’s still out there, giving more,
A quiet hero, to the core.