SHOTGUN SHELLS ON A CHRISTMAS TREE
Linda Williams

Thinking back on my best Christmas day
I see snow-covered fields of red Georgia clay,
And my grandmother there was hardened and gruff
'Cause she never had more than just enough.
I remember hearing her say,
"There's work to be done even on Christmas day.
There's no time or money for ribbons and wreaths
Or trimming a house with a Christmas tree."

Chorus:
    We hung shotgun shells on a little scrub pine,
    Red and green and brass that would shine.
    They still decorate my memory,
    Shotgun shells on the Christmas tree.

My dad just ignored my grandma's decree.
He took me hunting for a Christmas tree.
There in the field with the rabbits and squirrels,
Were more shotgun shells than I'd seen in the world.
We crunched through the snow to a place he knew well.
While he picked out a tree I was picking up shells.
I already see them there in my mind,
Tied to the tree with pieces of twine.

Chorus

That house had a tree for the very first time
A Christmas red-clay north-Georgia pine,
And even my grandmother came in to help
When we strung it with four-ten and twelve-gauge shells
I'd never seen such a smile on her face
As she laughed as we set out the table places
About what a sight it was to see,
Shotgun shells on a Christmas tree.

Chorus