| Love you, love you, love you
|
| He did, he did, he did
|
| He stood high above you
|
| You were just a little kid
|
| Your daddy was a farmer
|
| His back was burnished red and gold
|
| And every time he closed his eyes a rooster crowed
|
| He sowed a hundred rows of corn
|
| The summer you were born
|
| And wondered what your life would yield
|
| How it feels to be a child of his, how it feels
|
| Your daddy was a builder
|
| He swung his hammer brown and silver
|
| Every time he closed his eyes a nail was drove
|
| And you were always underfoot
|
| Like a splinter in the wood
|
| He couldn’t pull you from his heels
|
| How it feels, how it feels
|
| Love you, love you, love you
|
| He did, he did, he did
|
| He stood high above you
|
| Sky around his head
|
| Sawdust in his hair
|
| A scarecrow of a man
|
| He couldn’t draw you near to him
|
| But you grew up straight and you grew up true
|
| And he kept a blue-gray eye on you
|
| Until the day he closed his eyes and left them closed
|
| Your daddy didn’t leave a will
|
| He left a shovel and a hole to fill
|
| And how it feels, how it feels
|
| How it feels to be a child of his
|
| How it feels to be alive like this
|
| But who gave you an axe to grind?
|
| Who gave you a path to find?
|
| Who gave you a row to hoe?
|
| Who gave you your sorrow?
|
| Who gave you the break of dawn?
|
| A pleasure just to look upon
|
| Who gave you a barn to build?
|
| And an empty page, to fill |