First verse:

She was seventy five weathered eyes full of that wisdom,
A temper of fire I admired always persisting
To never retire from her mind or play the victim
To the sickness being old inflicted
And I was young enough to not give a fuck at what
The other kids would think if I sat across from her
So I did and as it turns out I’m glad
For the stories by the beach from the Gran I never had

She would always say we’re all made up of history
Hers came at a cost she lost her granddad to Gallipoli
Further to this was the impact it had would lead to the
Breakdown of her family unit her and her sister leave
Put in an orphanage by social services
Then split apart by the foster family circuses
And after she’d had enough of shocking abuse
She got up and moved, admitted to slipping into the comfort of booze
But managed to snap out of it, with nothing to lose
Turned to nursing for a profession then her confidence grew
Travelled the world met her Italian husband, plus
Had her own girl then she added a son and
Felt like she made it in the worst of adversity
When she knew first hand how all of the amount of hurt she’d seen
Had caused suicide or people to use then die
Each day I’d skate back to the park after this lady had blew my mind


Hook/Chorus:
Can you hear the words of the people?
It's as loud as the bells on the steeple
Still they never will
The ones hard of hearing are young and it goes on


Second verse:

Every few days I’d always stop by, say hi
And watch as she’d chuck a couple of scraps to the seagulls while I’d
Just listen to more pieces of life lived and advice
Given with pride on what she did with her time
Question; how can you smile with all the shit you’ve survived?
She shifted and sighed then wiped a little tear from her eye
And said “in strife there are two types of people you’ll find
Some will just crumble becoming victims for life
But others will fight, use the pain as fuel to break the demise
Never forget, but never let your best traits ever die”
And I’ll always remember that, just like December back
Then when for once she wasn’t at the bench in fact
She hadn’t made it for weeks then a newspaper released
Information on recent increases in preying on weak
And the elderly, bags snatched dashed on pavement
Her face displayed the latest death these crack heads created…