Granma’s hands clapped in church on Sunday morning
Granma’s hands played the tambourine so well
Granma’s hands used to issue out a warning
“Michael don’t you run so fast
Might fall on a piece of glass
Might be snakes there in that grass”
Granma’s hands

Granma’s hands sooth the local unwed mother
Granma’s hands used to ache sometimes and swell
Granma’s hands used to lift her free and tell her
“Baby Granma understands
That you really loved that man
Put yourself in the Spirits’ hands”
Granma’s hands
Granma’s hands used to hand me a piece of candy
Granma’s hands picked me up each time I fell
Granma’s hands, boy they really came in handy
“Mattie don’t you whip that boy
What you want to spank him for?
He didn’t drop no apple core”
But I don’t have Granma any more
If I get to heaven I’ll look for
Granma

If I ever get up there
If I ever go down there
I’ll be wandering around
I’ll be looking for her
I’ll be looking up a north a south a west and east and everywhere I go
Baby Granma
Those eyes, those hands, those smiles
Those warm little looks I get from her...