Little girl with golden hair
As I sit in utter wonder
On a evening in summer
Listen to your papa's prayer.
Thank you for this lovely day
Breezes blew and sunshine shone
May I gently gently say,
Put those headphones far away,
Please stop texting on your phone.
If you'd listen to your father
There are things that I could say
Stories of the long ago
That Taylor Swift will never know
Of people with your DNA.
Long before you came among us,
There were giants in the land,
Sturdy women, gentle aunts,
Men in baggy denim pants,
Who used to take me by the hand.
Maybe we should take a ride
You the audience, me the host,
I'd drive slowly, your companion,
Cross the plains and through the canyons,
All the way out to the coast.
Talk about your great-grandfathers,
Scotland, Yorkshire, Nova Scotia
Wandering husbands and their wives
Off in search of better lives,
Farmers crossing the great ocean.
They were people of great faith,
Work and prayer is what they did.
Day by day, everyone
Did what needed to be done
And you and I should also, kid.
And now I see you've gone to sleep
On my shoulder, golden hair.
Tomorrow we shall talk again.
Sleep well, my dear. Amen.
That concludes your father's prayer.