Lyrics:

Grampa buried dignity when he got old
Like a killer and child now for seven long years
But he wets his own britches if he’s not told
But he used to build bridges, they would light em up at night
Grampa built bridges, they were delicate webs
With ridges and valleys joined hand in hand
When Grandma went empty the last of her days
He told her she’d come and could go with grace
Refrain:
Hold on, hold my hand
I know you know the way
With eagle’s wings and songs to sing
We’ll lead you across the Bay
Grampa built bridges with crestview spires
With braids of wires and wings of steel
Til he walked on over with his heels on fire
And the bridge burned back with a captive haze
Refrain
Grampa built bridges like mountains and birds
But now he’s curled at the bottom where the sun can’t warm
Cause there’s nothing in our culture about mountains no more
And there’s no more stories about calling up storms
No there’s no more stories about sitting up straight
Proud and with purpose, our time to take
Til the last breath cools for the clouds to make
And rain back down to fill the bay
Refrain
No there’s nothing in our culture about mountains no more
And there’s no more stories about bridges