[Intro] (8s)
Banjo plucks, a chuckle-kazoo peeks in, slide-whistle wink on the last beat.
"Gather 'round," the porch light hums, and the kettle clicks twice—then we begin.
[Verse 1] (30s)
In the corner of Maple & Third, under a crooked streetlight's spin,
Lives a lady in a yellow cardigan with a sparkly safety pin.
She wears one blue oven mitt on the wrong, left hand,
Mismatched socks, a crooked grin, and a purple polka-dot band.
She waves the mailman off balance — his hat tilts like a crown —
Stirs jam with a wooden spoon, sets the town's giggles down.
[Pre-Chorus] (12s)
Her laugh pops like popcorn, a timing that hooks the crowd,
Little surprises in her pockets: a kazoo, a paper cloud.
(Em — C — G — D motion)
[Chorus] (20s)
Funny grandma, you turn the world to grin,
You spin a broken teacup into a treasure from within.
Funny grandma, clap once, sing it loud, spin it thin —
You turn the quiet corners into a carnival of kin.
[Verse 2] (30s)
County bake-off Saturday: apron mismatched, recipe in rhyme,
She slid a lemon pie in the oven but forgot to set the time.
Out popped a pancake castle, umbrellas made of crust,
A blue oven mitt in the rafters, powdered sugar like dust.
The judges frowned polite at first, then snorted into cheer,
As she juggled scones and stories and offered everyone a tear.
[Pre-Chorus - comic riff] (12s)
A wink, a kazoo line, and a whistle that squeaks delight,
Neighbors laugh so hard their lanterns flicker through the night.
(Em — C — G — D motion)
[Chorus] (20s)
Funny grandma, you turn the world to grin,
You trade a frown for a parade and make the small things win.
Funny grandma, tight rope of jokes, spun from thread-thin skin —
You turn the wounded morning into a mischievous twin.
[Bridge — Story Turn / Heartbeat] (20s)
But one rainy Tuesday, when the florist's boy lost his song,
She borrowed his sorrow in a melody soft and long.
She hummed a lullaby once sung under circus tents in June,
A hush fell over Maple Street, the moon found a softer tune.
She isn't just comic timing—she's someone who mends the seam;
Her jokes are stitches in the jacket of the town's half-remembered dream.
(A turning chord Em — D — C — G, brief pause)
[Instrumental Banjo Solo + Comic FX] (12s)
Banjo twirls, upright bass hums, brushed snare keeps the grin,
Kazoo answers with a cheeky trumpet, slide-whistle winks between.
[Verse 3 / Payoff] (22s)
Next month at the talent show, she trod the stage with one shoe loose,
Pulled a hat full of cupcakes, handed each a tiny noose — of ribbon —
She sang a silly battle hymn to yesterday's small pains,
Turned a broken pie into confetti, taught the town new refrains.
The mayor wiped his spectacles, the kids learned a brand-new dance;
She won the county's spirit ribbon with a very silly prance.
[Final Chorus / Tag] (18s)
Funny grandma, you turn the world to grin,
You sow spilled sugar on the sidewalks and call it next of kin.
Funny grandma, every crooked thing becomes a hymn,
You turn our ordinary days to,
