Grandpa’s name was Arthur Groves, he was a carrier for the Post
Whistled as he made his rounds in snowy Ontario
When he was still a young man, he volunteered for war
Mustard gas in Northern France burned his lungs but left his soul.
And I heard him whistle a new tune every day
The spirit deep within the man could never be contained
Just one life to share his joy in every way he could
Now I hear my Grandpa’s whistle still, just like he knew I would.
He met a girl named Edith Brown, she was a fine young thing they say
She made Art toe the line for love, then she blessed him in every way
She raised up six young kids just right in the house that Art had built
When e’re she heard his whistle at the door she was there to warm his chill.
He loved to build things with his hands, he never worked without a tune,
A cottage on Lake Simcoe’s shores, and a boat to chase the moon
And in my fondest memories of the last years he had left
He never lost the quiet dignity of the music in his breast.
Grandpa’s name was Arthur Groves,
He was a carrier for the Post...
"White Pine" words and Music by Timothy Soden-Groves, hereby donated to the Public Domain. No Rights Reserved. "Just Like in Your Town" video by Diane and Timothy Soden-Groves, also hereby donated to the Public Domain. No Rights Reserved. Power to the hearts of the people!