by Martin Gilmore

Make a Home

(Martin Gilmore Timtomtodd music, ASCAP)

Seven, that’s how old she was following a wagon through the sand
From Amarillo to New Mexico that’s the way they traveled back then
It was nineteen fifteen and her family was struggling headed west to chase the hope of a dream
To the land of enchantment hoping the best would happen along with their family
She told me when I was younger “Son the way that you make it through
Keep your nose pointed to the brightest horizon keep your feet falling and rising
Don’t worry about what you left back east you won’t get nowhere if you don’t move your feet
You know, that’s how you make it home.”

She weren’t no lazy twenty something wishing for the best
She was a child of northern Texas her home always was the west
She never graduated, didn’t call herself educated, she just trying to make it thru
She told when I was younger “Son the future depends on you
Life is easier so new hard times seem harder to everyone
People are too selective; they have no perspective harder things have been done
There’s been too much given, to much careless living, to much wrapped up in the things we own
You’ve got to let it go, that’s how you make a home”

She married young by the standards today raised twin girls in the hardest times
Her husband built roads and the Horsetooth dam and trapped coyotes to make a life
Twelve years her daughters were in school was never in the same one more than eight months
The lived in trailers and stone wall houses sometimes their floors were dust
She told me “Son don’t you ever regret, take any break you ever can get
Happiness isn’t dollars and cents, hard times came and hard times went
But you can’t build a life out of money and stone you build it from love
And that’s how you make a home”

For More Information Contact Martin Gilmore at martin@martingilmore.com