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Some days I fight pirates, way out on the sea. Some days I climb mountains in the big oak tree. A guys gets to be what a guy has to be: At Grandma's house. My big sister, Lil, gets to bake her own pies. She can paint that blue shadow over her eyes. And everyday brings us a pleasant surprise: At Grandma's house. We climb into the car and everyone goes To see Santa Claus with his big old red nose, Watch his shaking belly, hear his ho, ho, ho's: At Grandma's House On Christmas morning, as quiet as can be, We hurry downstairs to the big Christmas tree And we find all the treasures for Lil and me: At Grandma's house. It's so hard to describe the joy that we feel, As we play with Grandpa we laugh, then we squeal, And Grandma has cooked us a wonderful meal. At Grandma's house. When we're an old couple, on each Christmas day, I'll hope our children will have felt this same way And that they'll bring their babies over to play: At Grandma's house. —Grandpa Tucker |
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