i'll take the next cab into chicago
my father's mother waiting there for me
the roads lay on the map the way the wind blows
the tollways show their love on the marquee
i know that she'll run out with arms to greet me
her cane will lay forgotten by the door
and she won't need a butler there to seat me
she won't need to send him to the store
she was torn up when she lost her husband
and he was torn up when he lost her too
she hangs his wedding band over the oven
for something she can put her finger through
she pricks her finger hemming all his garments
she clutches to his shoehorn like a hand
it may seem rather strange, but it's quite harmless
for someone so old without a man
i'll lend her my arm and we'll go walking
she'll never have felt so young before
then up to all the bars we'll come a'knocking
until the girls won't serve us anymore
and we'll go stumbling out into the streets, then
both lost for words, my grandmother and i
my family has no sorrow to defeat them
my father's mother's never gonna die
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