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He's an old hand at fixing cars and bailing hay |
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And there's nothing he can't do on that old farm |
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He's tougher than leather for a man his age |
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But he's 21 when she's lying in his arms |
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She's and old hand at baking bread and washing clothes |
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And rocking little babies to sleep |
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But the calloused hands are softer than the morning rose |
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And she always seems to know just what he needs |
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When old hands hold hands |
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With just a touch they understand |
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Life and love and making plans |
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'Cause they're old hands |
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They've pulled a load together down a long hard road |
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And they both know that their journey will end |
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But they won't be afraid when it's their time to go |
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'Cause chances are they'll just go hand in hand |
