Last Sunday we got in the car and we drove
To the town you were raised in, your boyhood home
The trees were just turning, up on the ridge
And this was your valley when you were a kid
You showed me the railroad that your daddy worked on
As we neared the old house where your granny lives on
She's nearing ninety years now, with her daughters by her side
Who tend the places in the heart where loneliness can hide
Raised by the women who are stronger than you know
A patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewn
The threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the moth
By your mother and her mother, the weavers of your cloth
(2nd verse, same chords)