Grandma talks about the weather
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This bright sun, this gentle wind
Grandma gives us the forecast
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Grandma watches and above all, keeps an eye on
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She could've been a thermometer
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Grandma avoids and flees the conflict
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And moves further from the storm
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Grandma doesn't get involved
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She says she doesn't get it
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Even if it livens up the meals
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And you'll be among your own
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Far from the rain, far from the seasons
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Grandma points out, she's right
That it's really dark out
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And especially cold for the season
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Casually, Grandma savors
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Grandma, she knows love well
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Grandma whistles a little tune
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And gets up like a draft
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Grandma, she's like the wind
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She calls the shots
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Grandma doesn't get involved
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She says it's not for her
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She loves it when it's chaos
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And you'll be among your own
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Far from the rain, far from the seasons
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And you'll be among your own
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Far from the rain, far from the seasons