Verse 1

Grandma, you were nineteen in that photograph downstairs
Standing on the courthouse steps with rice caught in your hair
He had one good jacket and a dollar-something ring
You said you'd take the jacket and you'd worry about the spring
Fifty-one Decembers and the band's worn nearly through
But you still put your hand in his the same way that you do

Chorus

Fifty-one winters, and the woodpile's holding still
You've been up that same steep staircase and you've never called it a hill
Whatever love is made of, it was never made of gold
It's fifty-one winters and a hand you didn't let go

Verse 2

You raised four in a farmhouse where the water came out brown
You buried two Novembers and you never left this town
He learned to make the coffee when your hands began to shake
You learned to let him do it and to say it tasted great
There ain't a song in me that's big enough to say
So I wrote a small one, Grandma, and I'm singing it today

Chorus

Fifty-one winters, and the woodpile's holding still
You've been up that same steep staircase and you've never called it a hill
Whatever love is made of, it was never made of gold
It's fifty-one winters and a hand you didn't let go

Bridge

When the porch swing needs a bolt he's out there before noon
When the radio plays slow he takes your elbow in the room
And the kitchen turns to dancing and it's nineteen fifty-two

Final Chorus

Fifty-one winters, and the woodpile's holding still
You've been up that same steep staircase and you've never called it a hill
Whatever love is made of, you two figured out the mould
It's fifty-one winters and a hand you didn't let go

Outro

Happy anniversary from the loud one, from the boy
Fifty-one winters, Grandma — here's to one more year of joy