In My Father's Footsteps

When I was very small, before i learn to talk.
My father held my hand and his.
And showed me how to walk.
And sometimes i would cry, or sometimes i would fall.
But always he was there for me, to help me thru it all.

In my father's footsteps, that's how i begin.
But there was so much more to know.
Still so very hard to go for me to be a man.

As i began to grow, my world began to change.
The many things my father said to me seemed very strange.
We'd often disagree.
We both would take a stand.
We never were so close again as when he held my hand.

In my father's footsteps, that's how i begin.
But there was so much more to know.
Still so very hard to go for me to understand.

My father now is gone, and more and more i see.
The kind of man my father was, was not so bad to be.
And someday when i'm old, i hope that i can be,
As good as dad, as my old man, when he was here with me.

In my father's footsteps, that's how i begin.
But there was so much more to know.
Still so very hard to go for me to understand.

In my father's footsteps, that's how i begin.
But there was so much more to know.
Still so very hard to go for me to understand.