Grandpa had a piano it was built in 1904 He brought it down from Sydney town before the First World War He'd sit down and crack his knuckles put his glasses on his head When he'd start to play the cat would run and hide behind the bed
Well his right foot stomped the pedals and his left foot stomped the floor His wrinkled hands would skip the keys that wouldn't play no more He'd play Onward Christian Soldiers and the window panes would shake When the man of 87 played his old 88
The piano sat in a corner on a sagging hardwood floor On top was a frame I made for him with a picture of the Lord. A faded baptist hymnal took it's place above the keys We'd take turns sitting by him he'd nod we'd turn the page
Well the old piano's silent now it don't ring with joy no more Except sometimes when the cat jumps down when there's someone at the door I can see him up in heaven with a smile upon his face When God and all the angels let him lead Amazing Grace
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