Memories of when I was a little boy, four years old,
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Waiting for my daddy to come home,
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And now I look into the eyes of my own son,
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Wondering what he's thinking of,
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Waiting at the window when I come home.
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Watch his eyes fill up with joy and wonder.
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He reaches out his tiny hand;
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I feel the bond 'tween boy and man.
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Memories of my mom cryin', my daddy gone for weeks at a time,
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Not knowing how to comfort her,
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Facin' my pillow, pretendin' not to hear.
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Now I write this letter to my little boy.
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I'm far away, not knowing really what to say
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Except, "I'm sorry, oh so sorry."
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I don't want to make these same
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Mistakes my daddy made with me.
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Still his voice rolls off my tongue
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When I say, "Boy, protect your mom."
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Memories of my wife cryin' on the phone
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Wonderin' when I'm coming home.
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My voice sounds detached and cold,
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Reminds me of someone that I knew;
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He had a funny attitude
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When I needed him to be
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All the things only a daddy could be to me.
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And I don't want to make the same
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Mistakes my daddy made with me.
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Still his voice rolls off my tongue
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When I say, "Not now, I'm busy son."
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Memories of lying in bed with my wife and son,
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Overwhelmed by so much love,
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Tryin' to explain how a man can cry
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Yet still be happy,
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Thinking of all the dumb mistakes I've made.
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Now I understand my father's pain;
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He did the best with what he knew.
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I love you daddy.
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I watched my son fall asleep
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And wonder what he'll think of me
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When years from now he sees his son
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Reachin' out his tiny hands for love.
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Memories
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| Dan Hill |
