[ Featuring Deb Conrad ]
The sun peeked through the poplar leaves that lined that narrow lane
The grass and weeds obscured the stone and gravel
Years had passed since grandpa made his way to see the old home place
Down this road that now was seldom traveled
This weedy drive that now was seldom traveled
He said "Ya' know, back in 55, we would walk this road to Alden
I'd hold your little hand so you'd keep walkin'
Now I'm old and wobbly, but in ways it's like it used to be
'Cept it's my arm that you're holdin', while we're talkin'
Now you're holdin' me up while we're walkin'
Now that used to be my windmill, pumping water for the farm
I'd climb that thing to check the gears and grease um
While I had the grease out, I would climb the rafters in the barn
To the pulleys and the trolley and unfreeze 'em'
I liked things all in order so I'd clean 'em'
He laughed and said did I tell you about the time I lost my finger
He held the stumpy digit so I could see it
He said I caught it in the haul rope while puttin hay up with your uncle
And severed off the tip for I could free it
I used a linen rag and i-dine to treat it.
He had built his farm with hand tools, and with tender loving care
With his hands were hewn the barn poles and the flat boards
He fitted all the wood joints with an uncommon precision
You couldn't feel the seams in his wood floors
In stocking feet we'd slide across the wood floors
I saw his eyes looked misty as we stood before the house
Build with skill and care just like his barn was
Windows broken, roof collapsed and things all sagging inward
As we sadly watched the walls come tumbling down
The ruination of my grandpa's farm
He sold it when he moved to town when he was nearly 90
The buyer paid top dollar for the acreage
But he bought it for the farmland
And the house went bare and empty
Till some firemen burned the buildings to the ground
The Ruination of my Grandpa's farm
