| Delaney talks to statues
|
| As she dances 'round the pool
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| She chases cats through roman ruins
|
| And stomps on big toadstools
|
| She speaks a language all her own
|
| That I cannot discover
|
| But she knows I love her so
|
| When I tuck her 'neath the covers
|
| Father, daughter
|
| Down by the water
|
| Shells sink, dreams float
|
| Life’s good on our boat
|
| Delaney draws me pictures
|
| She finger paints the sand
|
| We chase the dogs and hop like frogs
|
| Then I do my bad handstand
|
| She’s growing up too fast for me
|
| And asking lots of questions
|
| Some I know the answers to
|
| And some I’m looking for suggestions
|
| Father, daughter
|
| Born by the water
|
| Surf’s up, sun’s down
|
| Life in a beach town
|
| And some of the things I’ve seen
|
| Maybe she won’t have to see
|
| But there’s a lot I want to pass along
|
| That was handed down to me
|
| Delaney talks to statues
|
| As she dances 'round the pool
|
| She chases cats through Roman ruins
|
| And stomps on big toadstools
|
| She speaks a language all her own
|
| Just a little like her mother
|
| And she knows I love her so
|
| When I tuck her 'neath the covers
|
| Father, daughter
|
| Down by the water
|
| Shells sink, dreams float
|
| Life’s good on our boat |