My grandfather used to take us
Down to the ice skatin' show,
At the hockey rink at the stadium,
When the Blackhawks were on the road.
We'd cheer for the clowns in their costumes,
And the beautiful figure ballet,
Of the former Olympic champions
As they'd spin on the frozen spray.
But there was one moment in that whole spectacular show,
When the band would strike up a quiet waltz,
And they turned all the lights down low.
Old smoothies,
Two old people on skates.
Sequined septuagenarians
Doing their figure eights.
How they'd glide 'round the arena,
So serene and sublime.
They had been the old smoothies for a long, long time.
Where did they get the stamina?
And how did they stay in shape?
I know that took the lion's share
Of liniment, pride and tape.
See my Grandfather smile and the smoothies
Would glide and pirouette,
Then he would reach for my Grandma's hand,
And Grandma's eyes got wet.
The spotlight stayed on the smoothies,
While they circled the ice and bowed
Before fifteen thousand hockey fans,
Not a dry eye in the crowd.
Old smoothies,
Two old people on skates.
Sequined septuagenarians
Doing their figure eights.
How they'd glide 'round the arena,
So serene and sublime.
They had been the old smoothies for a long, long time.