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Allison Crowe
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The Glow of the Kerosene Light
I remember the time when my grandpa and I,
Would sit by the fire at night;
And I'd listen to stories of how he was there,
By the glow of the kerosene light,
By the glow of the kerosene light.
He said: Mom and Dad sent me off to school,
Where I learned how to read and to write;
And they listened for hours, as I read from my books,
By the glow of the kerosene light,
By the glow of the kerosene light.
Your grandma and I, we were wed at sixteen,
Lord, she was a beautiful sight;
And proudly I placed the ring on her hand,
By the glow of the kerosene light,
By the glow of the kerosene light.
About one year later, your daddy was born,
And your grandma held my hand so tight;
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Oh! I can't tell the joy, as she brought forth new life,
By the glow of the kerosene light,
By the glow of the kerosene light.
But having her child, it did weaken her soul,
She just wasn't up to the fight;
But she looked so peaceful, as she went to her rest,
By the glow of the kerosene light,
By the glow of the kerosene light.
Then, as now, the times they were hard,
To succeed you would try all your might;
But sometimes love blooms, and sometimes dreams die,
By the glow of the kerosene light,
By the glow of the kerosene light.
By the glow of the kerosene light.
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