My eyes have seen,

My ears have heard,

The special beauty,

Of a kind world.

Those who do,

And those who do not,

They have shaped,

What it is I have got.

So much stress is on my mind,

she’s your daughter just as much as she is mine.

I brush her hair and iron her sweater,

when the winter brings such unfriendly weather.

You might say your work is rough,

I met a woman

Old as dirt

Yet nice as the morning sun,

Living where some considered

The worst part of town

Yet somehow

She finds time

To knit me a sweater

Of dark green string

Straight from the soul

My job is so exhausting,

I don’t have time for parenting!

Maybe my wife should try fighting crime,

and I can stay home all day wasting time.

All she does is cook and shop and clean,

I don’t understand how it’s difficult to do those things.