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