He wore starched white shirts buttoned at the neck,
and he'd sit in the shade and watch the chickens peck.
And his teeth were gone, but what the heck,
I thought that he walked on water.
He said he was a cowboy when he was young.
He could handle a rope and he was good with a gun.
And my mama's daddy was his oldest son,--
and I thought that he walked on water.
CHORUS
If the story's told, only heaven knows.
But his hat seemed to me like an old halo.
And although his wings, they were never seen.
I thought that he walked on water.
Then he tied a cord to the end of a mop,
and said, "Son, here's a pony, keep her at a trot."
And I'd ride in circles while he laughed alot.
Then I'd flop down beside him.
And he was ninety years old in sixty-three
and I loved him and he loved me.
And lord, I cried the day he died,