Grief

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YESTERDAY


WHEN I THINK OF MY DADDY,
ALOT COMES TO MIND.
WHEN I WALK IN THE COUNTRY,
MY DADDY'S NOT HARD TO FIND.

HE'S IN THE COOL SPRING MORNING,
BIRD'S SINGING AS THEY FLY.
HE'S THE MIGHTY OAK, SO STRONG AND TALL,
BRANCH'S REACHING FOR THE SKY.

HE'S THE WALK DOWN AN OLD DIRT ROAD,
AND THE FLOWER'S THAT'S GROWING WILD.
HE'S THE CORN FIELD, SWAYING IN THE BREEZE,
AND THAT DANDELION PICKED BY A CHILD.

HE'S THE STREAM THAT'S FLOWING QUIETLY BY,
HE'S THAT WARM RAIN FALLING FROM THE SKY.
HE'S A DISTANT CALL OF A WIPPER-WILL,
AND THE ROBIN PERCHED ON THE WINDOW-SILL.

HE'S A THOUSAND WIND'S THAT BLOW,
A HUNDRED RIVER'S THAT FLOW.
HE'S THE RAY OF THE MORNING LIGHT,
THE BRIGHTEST STAR ON A COUNTRY NIGHT.

HE'S THE TEAR FALLING FROM MY EYE,
GOD KNOW'S ALL THE TEAR'S I'VE CRIED.
WHILE THINKING OF DADDY, AND THE THINGS I'D SAY,
IF ONLY I COULD GO BACK TO YESTERDAY.

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