The Rampart
When he started to play, the cat would run and hide behind the bed
Well, his right foot stomped the pedals and his left foot stomped the floor
His wrinkled hands would skip the keys, that couldn't play no more
He'd play on with Christian soldiers and the windowways would shake
When the man of 87 played his old 88
The piano sat in a corner on a sagging hardwood floor
On top was a frame I made for him with a picture of the Lord
A faded Baptist hymnal took its place above the keys
We'd take turns sitting by him, his nod would turn the page
Well, his right foot stomped the pedals and his left foot stomped the floor
His wrinkled hands would skip the keys, that couldn't play no more
He'd play on with Christian soldiers and the windowways would shake
When the man of 87 played his old 88
Well, the old piano's silent now, it don't ring with joy no more
Except sometimes when the cat jumps down when there's someone at the door
I can see him running, I can see him running, I can see him running
I can see him up in heaven with a smile upon his face
When God and all the angels let him lead amazing grace
Well, his right foot stomped the pedals and his left foot stomped the floor
His wrinkled hands would skip the keys, that couldn't play no more
He'd play on with Christian soldiers and the windowways would shake
Well, his right foot stomped the pedals and his left foot stomped the floor
His wrinkled hands would skip the keys, that couldn't play no more
Except sometimes when the cat jumps down when there's someone at the door
He'd play on with Christian soldiers and the windowways would shake
Well, his right foot stomped the pedals and his left foot stomped the floor
He'd play on with Christian soldiers and the windowways would shake
When the man of 87 played his old 88