My Zaide

My Zaide lives with us in my parents home
He used to laugh; he'd put me on his knee
And he spoke about his life in Poland
He spoke, but with a bitter memory

And he spoke about the soldjeirs who would be beat him
They laughed at him; they tore his long black coat
And he spoke about a synagogue they burned down
And the crying that was heard beneath the smoke

But Zaide made us laugh
Zaide made us sing
And Zaide made us kiddush Friday night
And Zaide, oh my Zaide how I love him so
And Zaide used to teach me wrong from right

But Zaide made us laugh
Zaide made us sing
And Zaide made a seder Pesach night
And Zaide, oh my Zaide how I love him so
And Zaide used to teach me wrong from right



Credits
Writer(s): Rony Weiss, Moshe Sachar, Morris Arthur Yess, Shlomo Levin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link