| Papa was a simple man papa loved his farming land
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| Guess I didn’t understand please forgive me papa
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| You can’t paint a picture of a man like papa with something as empty as words
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| Cause there’s no way to measure the thoughness of timber
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| And compare it to the softness of birds
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| Papa was both and yet he was neither just a hard working God fearing soul
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| He gave what he had to the ones that he loved and I guess he loved me best of all
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| For I was the oldest and we were the closest we worked that old farm side by side
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| I guess that’s the reason it hit me the hardest the morning that my papa died
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| All I could think of was how hard he’d worked and what little comfort he’d found
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| I guess that’s the reason I hitched up the mule and drove the old buggy to town
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| I picked out a lot in the big cemetery in the shade of a tall maple tree
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| Figured it’s the least I could do for my papa
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| After all the things that he’s done for me We gave him a funeral fit for a king and then we laid him to rest in the sod
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| Somehow I thought that in that big pretty place he just might feel closer to God
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| The women were crying as they passed by papa the men stopped and all shook my hand
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| Most of the mourness had gone when I looked up and noticed this white haired
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| old man
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| He was dressed kinda shabby and he walked with a cane his voice was shaky and
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| low
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| I had to look twice before I rocognized him he used to work for us a long time
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| ago
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| They told me this morning that the big boss had died
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| And I thought that I should come around
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| I went out to the homeplace to tell him goodbye
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| They told me that you done brought him to town
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| I remember your papa used to say that when he died he didn’t have but one
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| request
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| He wanted to be burried out dare on that farm
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| He said there wadn’t nowhere else that he could rest
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| When I heard what you’d done I fatched me a shovel found me an old paper sack
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| I scooped up some dirt from up near the farmhouse
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| And thought that I’d just bring it back
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| I hope you don’t mind if I just sorta scatter these few little pieces of clay
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| It ain’t gonna mess up your pretty green grass he just might sleep better this
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| way
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| Guess I didn’t understand please forgive me papa |