Joe Jung: Music

If you lend me an ear then I'll play the bard and sing you of good St. Bernard
Who bathed in the light and entered the gates in March of 2008

My Grandpa's eyes were rarely dry but saw all the beauty in life
He sobbed when he laughed and shook when he was sad and smiled the rest of the time

My Grandpa's hands were gentle and kind and polished the fruit on the vine
They gestured the sign and passed us the wine and cradled each baby who cried

Have you heard of good St. Bernard who worked the Belmont farm?

My Grandpa's hands laid many men down before the second round
And after the count when the match was complete he'd help them back up to their feet

My Gramps made tracks in a blue Cadellac with electric windows and seats
His pontoon boat sang over summertime waves on summertime Michigan lakes

My Grandpa Ben was a hero to all and watched over the meek and the small
Fences he lept and bullies he'd chase with octegenarian grace

Have you heard of good St. Bernard who worked the Belmont farm -

Who gave you a sawbuck for a blue piece of paper
No matter what letters were marked on the paper
Who loved eveyone with the love of his maker
And kept all his children from harm?

My Grandpa Ben had God in his head and God in his heart and his mind
The steeples of stone were forged from his bones and the sale of rex-airs from home

My Grandpa's heart was constant and bold, as true as his timepiece of gold
It was never thin skin that could do him in but time hugs and doesn't let go

Have you heard of good St. Bernard who worked the Belmont farm -

Who stood in the stands when heaven was raining
And cheered for the band as he cheered for the player
And cheered for the losers and cheered for the winners
And cheered past the end of the game

And remembered everyone's name

A funeralier, did he ever miss one?
Who buried a son but was father to everyone
A one woman man with a choir for a family
And no matter what you believe,

Santa will always be Grandpa to me