Ev'ry day my Papa would work to help to make ends meet,
To see that we would eat, keep those shoes upon my feet.
Ev'ry night my Papa would take and tuck me in my bed,
Kiss me on my head after all the pray'rs were said.
Growing up with him was easy, time just flew on by,
The years began to fly, he aged and so did I.
I could tell that mama wasn't well.
Papa knew and deep down so did she, so did she.
When she died Papa broke down and cried.
All he said was God why not take me.
Ev'ry night he sat there sleeping in his rocking chair
He never went up stairs all because she wasn't there.
Then one day my papa said, son I love the way you've grown
Make it on your own, I'll be O.K. alone.
Ev'ry time I kiss my children Papa's words ring true
Your children live through you, they'll grow and need you too.
I remember ev'ry word my Papa used to say
I live them ev'ry day. He taught me well that way.
(Contributed by Ferda Dolunay - April 2005)