In grandpaâs eyes I see the struggles
Of a simple man and all his troubles
I see faint traces of past generations
I see myself
In grandpaâs eyes
Grandpaâs hands were rough and callused
They pounded steel for thirty years
They built the trains for the Illinois central line
The riders were safe
In grandpaâs hands
On an august afternoon
The white socks would play
On a cheap transistor radio
Heâd listen to the game
Cicadas all a buzz
About a hundred and ten
In the stifling heat grandpa would hope
But the Sox would just lose again
Grandpaâs clothes smelled like camphor oil
Heâd mix a liniment
In case one of us got sick
Heâd rub my grandmaâs legs
She was in such pain again
Iâll never forget the smell of grandpaâs clothes
Sometimes after dinner weâd drive
Down to Wolf Lake
Grandpa loved the peacefulness of that time of day
There weâd fish for perch
âtil the sun touched down over the oil refineries
In grandpaâs eyes I see the troubles
Of a working man and all his struggles
To raise a family
During those depression years
I shall always find
Strength
In grandpaâs eyes
I shall always find
Strength and hope and love
In grandpaâs eyes