Songwriter: Roger Tomhave
Copyright: 2008
Lyrics:
The Mantel Song
Roger Tomhave �2008
The photo on the mantel in the antique wooden frame,
An image in the lineage from which I draw my name,
Among the faded faces of those long since gone,
For these I've never met, I sing this mantel song.
This one was a farmer, who lost the land to dust,
This one worked the iron mine until it turned to rust.
This one was a doctor known for gentle touch
Grandpa said that this one didn't amount to much.
Here stands the matriarch, the mother of them all
I don't know much about her, but keep her woolen shawl
In the box beside the mantel, it sailed the voyage west;
A simple shipping crate, to me a treasured chest.
I don't know why it matters or why I built this shrine,
I guess it is the one thing, I claim as truly mine.
The history of my family, though incomplete and flawed;
They are both truth and quandary, much as I think of God.
It's a sense of belonging to something bigger than myself,
It's pride, it's love, it's yearning, it's why I built this shelf.
The photo on the mantel in the antique wooden frame,
An image in the lineage from which I draw my name,
Among the faded faces of those long since gone,
For these I've never met, I sing this mantel song.