Well there was this one time
I was little girl,
walkedin onmy ole gran-pa
kneelin by the phone-
there were tears streamin'
down his agin' face
and when I asked him,
"Why you cryin' gran-pa"
he said "thats a story for cold beer
and another day"
Chorus
and he sat me on his knee
and he whispered in my ear
"nw you come on and find me baby
another day and you can hear
why this sad old story's
for another day and cold beer"
ten years down the road
gran-pa don't live at home no more-
he's livin' from a hospitol bed,
we really don't know whats in store.
I walk into his room
and theres a frame shakin' in his hand
and those same tears trail his agin' face
but all I can do is ask him
"why you cryin' gran-pa"
and listen to him say,
Chorus 2
" I wish I could sit you on my knee
but I'm stuck in thishere bed,
So I'll just whisper in you ear
what I once before said,
"baby, thats a story forcold beer
and another day"
So before I left that hospitol room
we made a promise, we promsied to keep
to finnaly have that day-
I'd lsiten his story, we'd drink a few
our sad times we'd trade-
But that day never came
and his service is today
and when they asked me to the alter
through the tears there was only one thing to say,
"well,
thats a story for cold beer and
another day....."
