Wrote this one tonight. This song is for my Grandfather. :

As a boy, flirtin with the fire

Playing backstreet lovers, stealing nickels from the tip jar

Wasn’t thinking bout the world

 

Father’s son stealing daddy’s little girls

 Pennsylvania lovers in a red leather cedes pearl

Like he did before

 

Over time will turn to things we cannot hold

Paint the lines to where we hope that we will go

O darling o, you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone,

You’re gonna miss me when the saints go marching on

 O still we go, through stories told

…in God we built our home

 

Saw my life unfurling in the curls,

Passing through the hourglass of that West Virginia girl 

You bet I gave that girl a ring

 

 Our Picket fence was colored of the world

Orange yellow sunsets and happy little boys and girls

They had their mother’s eyes

 

Over time will turn to things we cannot hold

Paint the lines to where we hope that we will go

O darling o, you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone,

You’re gonna miss me when the saints go marching on

 O still we go, through stories told

…in God we built our home

 

Now my story’s told

You’re not alone

I’m in the wind I’m in your soul

And Darling always know 

Where ever you may go

I’m in the wind im in your soul

 

O darling O please miss me now I’ve gone

I see the saints they’re marching on

Still I know through my story told

In God we built our home, our home.

• Patrick Droney
• Still We Go

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