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