My little boy kneelin' by his bed,
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Hands folded, sayin' his prayers.
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Talkin' to God, man to man:
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He don't know that I'm there.
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That's a picture I'd like to frame.
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That's a picture only God can paint.
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That's the kind of beauty no camera can capture:
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That's a picture.
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My daughter sittin' in her high chair,
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Ravioli all over her face.
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I stand an' stare at her innocence:
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I don't see the mess that she made.
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That's a picture I'd like to frame.
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That's a picture only God can paint.
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That's the kind of beauty no camera can capture:
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Yeah, that's a picture.
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I've seen snapshots of sunsets that take everyone's breath,
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An postcards of Paris in the spring.
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No paper or canvass compares what happens,
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To my heart in moments like these.
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My perfect angel, her hair all up,
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Blastin' at her radio.
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She'd a-died if she knew I saw her,
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Dancin' while she folded the clothes.
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That's a picture I'd like to frame.
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That's a picture only God can paint.
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That's the kind of beauty no camera can capture:
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Yeah, that's a picture.
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Oh, what a picture.
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That's a picture.
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That's a Picture
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Neal McCoy |