Singing my daddy's song

I saw her fight back the tear,
as she reached for her guitar,
I heard her say this one's a little special,
as I sat down at the bar,

she said I found these lyrics,
in my daddy's old suitcase,
he must have written some time ago,
back before he passed away,

I sat and wrote the music,
so I could sing along,
so I sort of wrote this with my daddy,
so I could sing his song.

you could feel the songs emotion,
as it poured out so clear,
you could see the deep connection,
that made her feel so near,

then it hit me like a dagger,
and made me miss my dad,.
wishing we were on a river bank fishing,
like all the good times we had.

then I sat there wishing I had something,
as special as that song,
that could connect me to those memories,
so I could sing along,

then I sat there thinking,
well then I guess I do.
it's all the things he taught me,
that stick with me like glue.
it's all the silly habits,
the whiskey running through my veins,
these things that were passed down,
to help me feel his pain,

it's the waking every morning,
not afraid to face the day,
after being up all night partying,
afraid to let the night go away,

it's the things I'll teach my son,
so he can sing along,
as I pass on the traditions,
as I sing my daddy's song.

It's the takin’ care of momma,
its the stickin’ to my word.
It's the bullheaded selfish pride,
that can make me seem absurd.

it's the hiding my emotions,
its the staying out all night.
it's the black eyes and bloody knuckles,
from pickin’ the fist fights.

It's all a part of what I'm singing,
each and every day.
that was written in the memories,
and the legends he would say.

so if you feel like listening,
here I am to sing along.
but don't you dare disrespect what your hearing,
because it’s my daddy's song.