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A hundred year old photograph |
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Stares out from a frame |
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And if you look real close you'll see |
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Our eyes are just the same |
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I never met them face to face |
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But i still know them well |
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From the stories |
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My dear grandma would tell |
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Elijah was a farmer |
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He knew how to make things grow |
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Fannie vowed she'd follow him |
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Wherever he would go |
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As things turned out they never left |
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Their small kentucky farm |
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But he kept her fed |
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She kept him warm |
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(chorus) |
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They're my guardian angels |
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And i know they can see |
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Ev'ry step i take |
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They are watching over me |
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I might not know where i'm goin' |
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But i'm sure where i come from |
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They're my guardian angels |
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And i'm their special one |
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Sometimes when i'm tired |
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I feel elijah take my arm |
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He says, "keep a-goin', hard work |
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Never did a body harm." |
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And when i'm really troubled |
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And i don't know what to do |
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Fannie whispers, "just do your best, we're awful proud of you!" |
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(chorus) |
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A hundred year old photograph |
|
Stares out from a frame |
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And if you look real close you'll see |
|
Our eyes are just the same |
