Story Behind The Song
I am convinced that most of the changes that are sought by modern day crusaders are the result not of a desire to benefit society but to free it from an unfair and old fashioned discipline. (Grandpa's gone, come out now, let's do a jig) They want society to be a fun and happy place-- a place of dancing, wine, women and song-- a child's dream of living in Candyland. It is well known that I have no aversion to dancing, wine, women , or song, but a society can not be based upon them. Sobriety, discipline, and hard work are the foundations upon which a stable society must rest. Once the jug is empty, the women lose their charms, the music is over and the dancing stops--then the wisdom of the fathers becomes apparent--but it is then too late.
Song Description
Every generation believes that it is changing the society bequeathed them for the better. Customs and institutions are assaulted because the young are certain that they know better than the countless generations before them responsible for the traditions they find senselessly confining. That the purpose of a custom is not immediately evident, does not mean that the custom has no purpose. It is merely an indication that we are unable to understand it. Human society is the most complex known entity in the universe, and is generally beyond our comprehension. Its variables are so great that it is unassailable by the normal scientific method which we rely upon for our understanding.
| Song Length |
3:29 |
Genre |
Unique - Unclassified |
Lyrics
Grandpa's gone,
Come out now, let's do a jig.
Grandpa's gone,
Grab the jug, let's have a swig.
Grandpa's gone,
Honey, shake that thingamajig.
His overalls
Are hanging there,
Can't even find
Cool clothes to wear,
He built the house
But god damn he's square.
His pecan grove
Was cool and shady,
Reckon that he
Ever maybe
Knew what was up?
But fuck that baby, cause now
Grandma's gone
Come on baby, let's rock and roll.
Grandma's gone
Let's throw away everything old.
Grandma's gone.
Let's pawn what we haven't sold.
Her cookbook
Smeared with blood,
No recipe that
Any Frenchman could
Tolerate.
She never understood.
What a party
While it lasted
We took their bond
And we cashed it,
But who'll clean the house
Now we've trashed it?