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
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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