Hello
We've not met
This is the voice
Of your dead great grandfather
I bet you thought
You would never
Hear my voice
I bet you've never
Even thought
Of me before
And does it make you cry
That you'll be more forgotten than I?
That your no children
Won't even notice when you die?
Have you ever thought of me
In your forty years of history?
Well my son of son of son
That's how remembered you'll be
I was born
In the sepia days
Of coldness and hunger
And I died
Achieving little of note
Except my son
And does it make you weep
That you have no soul for a god to keep?
That you have no heaven to aspire
To rest in when your life is done?
Wouldn't it be better
To pretend that it's going to be alright
Instead of facing the void at night?
Great Grandfather's Song Video (MV)
Mark Sheeky - Great Grandfather's Song Lyrics
Official
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Hello
We've not met
This is the voice
Of your dead great grandfather
I bet you thought
You would never
Hear my voice
I bet you've never
Even thought
Of me before
And does it make you cry
That you'll be more forgotten than I?
That your no children
Won't even notice when you die?
Have you ever thought of me
In your forty years of history?
Well my son of son of son
That's how remembered you'll be
I was born
In the sepia days
Of coldness and hunger
And I died
Achieving little of note
Except my son
And does it make you weep
That you have no soul for a god to keep?
That you have no heaven to aspire
To rest in when your life is done?
Wouldn't it be better
To pretend that it's going to be alright
Instead of facing the void at night?
We've not met
This is the voice
Of your dead great grandfather
I bet you thought
You would never
Hear my voice
I bet you've never
Even thought
Of me before
And does it make you cry
That you'll be more forgotten than I?
That your no children
Won't even notice when you die?
Have you ever thought of me
In your forty years of history?
Well my son of son of son
That's how remembered you'll be
I was born
In the sepia days
Of coldness and hunger
And I died
Achieving little of note
Except my son
And does it make you weep
That you have no soul for a god to keep?
That you have no heaven to aspire
To rest in when your life is done?
Wouldn't it be better
To pretend that it's going to be alright
Instead of facing the void at night?
Writer: Mark Sheeky
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid