Sounds like lemon lime crystal drops.
Slowly moving grandma, in the kitchen with her mop.
Grandpa in his rocking chair,
yelling for the kids to stop.

The sounds of innocents.
Not knowing what’s going on in the world around them.
Just know that they’re existing.
Waiting for the next Christmas Eve,
Only to wake up to excitement.
But not learning the real celebration;
That’s the anthem of our nation.

While grandma and grandpa hope to see another day,
So they get down on their knees to pray.
Wanting to see their grandchildren grow up and play.

With the sunrise reflecting off the bed room floor,
The children jumped up to open their door.
They see the chair rocking but grandpa not there.
As his soul rest upon his home.
Another child not understanding life after death.
With pain on that child’s chest,
He enters the world feeling alone.
Now picture that.