|
I love a whole heart Daddy
Boy
Who has a bushel soul
Who is no manikin or toy
But boy from start to goal
Whose energy is runnin' o'er
An' drippin from his face,
Who teases Towser till he's "sore"
An banters him a race.
He rides o' dobbin in a dash
An' may be gallops some,
An' all creation's gone kersmash
If he can't make 'er hum.
He shoots his aggies straight from taw
An' busts the ring that wuz;
He plays the game without a draw
Jest like his daddy does.
His daddy is his dearest chum
An' tells him to be square,
To play the game of life to come
An' treat his fellows fair.
He tells him of all the roads
The Jesus road is best
For those who carry heavy loads
Since they are promised rest.
An' when the lengthening shadders come,
When daddy's dead and gone,
Of livin' pictures tha'll be some
That Daddy drew at dawn
Within the fortress of his soul
Upon some inner wall,
That will but guide him to the goal,
When the trumpeter shall call. |
