Chris, Dick, and Sheba

                         The Boy

He discovered America in '82

And he cried and cried 'til his face turned blue

But he outgrew that bye and bye

Been a long time since I seen him cry

He's smart as a whip, and he's good in school

And he likes airplanes and toys and tools

Got his mom's imagination and his grandpa's eyes

He's fond of pizza and he loves french fries

There never was a time this boy was bad

He's growin' up tall, just like his dad

Guess it runs in the family — he's a thinker and a poet

Ain't much you can talk about but he don't already know it

We go campin' in the mountains and sometimes flyin'

And we talk abut livin' and we talk about dyin'

I teach him good manners and how to have gumption

And every once in awhile, he teaches me sump'n

If the airplane's broke, or the weather's bad

And he can't go flying with his old granddad

He'll come over and help in the yard

He ain't lazy; the boy works hard

He's younger than me by 43 years

And I love him so much that it brings on tears

Guess I'll be leavin' him bye and by

. . . But as long as he lives, so will I . . .

©1992 Dick Jonas