The tears have all been shed now,
we've said our last goodbyes.

His soul's been blessed,
he's laid to rest,
and its now I feel alone.

He was more then just my father,
my teacher, my best friend,
and he'll still be heard,
in the tunes we've shared,
when I play them on my own.

I never will forget him,
for he made me what I am.

Though he may be gone,
memories linger on,
and I miss him, the old man.

As a boy, he'd take me walking,
by mountain, field, and stream,
and he'd show me things,
not know to kings,
a secret between him and me.

Like the colors on a pheasant,
as he rises in the dawn,
or how to fish, or make a wish,
beside a fairy tree.

I never will forget him,
for he made me what I am.

Though he may be gone,
memories linger on,
and I miss him, the old man.

I thought he'd live forever,
he seemed so big and strong,
but the minutes fly,
and the years roll by,
for a father and a son,
and suddenly when it happened,
there was so much left unsaid,
no second chance to tell him thanks,
for everything he'd done.

Oh, I never will forget him,
for he made me what I am,
though he may be gone,
memories linger on,
God I miss him, the old man.

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