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.