Cheapest Kind - Greg Brown

We travelled Kansas and Missouri spreading the good news

A preachers family in our pressed clothes and worn out polished shoes

Momma fixed us soup beans and served them up by candlelight

She tucked us in at night

Oh she worried through many a sleepless night

Dad and me would stop by the store when the day was done

Standin at the counter he said «I forgot to get the peaches, son.»

«What kind should I get?»

I said to him there where he stood in line

And he answered just like I knew he would «Go and get the cheapest kind»

But the love, the love, the love

It was not the cheapest kind

It was rich as, rich as, rich as, rich as, rich as

Any you could ever find

I see the ghost of my grandfather from time to time

In some big city amongst the people all dressed so fine

He usually has a paper bag clutched real tight

His work clothes are dirty

He don’t look at nobody in the eye

Oh he was little, he was wirey, and he was lots of fun

He was rocky as Ozark dirt that he come from

And they was raisin seven children on a little farm

In not the best of times

The few things that they got from the store

Was always just the cheapest kind

Fancy houses with wealthy poeple I don’t understand

I always wish I could live holdin on to my grandpa’s hand

So he could lead me down that gravel road somewhere

To that little house where there’s just enough supper

For whosever there

My people’s hands and faces they are so dear to me

All I have to do is close my eyes and I see 'em all so near to me

I have to cry I have to laugh

When I think of all the things that have drawn those lines

So many years of makin do with the cheapest kind