PREACHER'S KID

It was never easy being a preacher's kid,

You grow up praying about everything that you did,

You are taught that you are to be seen not heard,

You cut your teeth on the Golden Word,

On Sunday morning while the rest watch cartoons,

Here you are sitting in a boring Sunday school room,

You sit there dreaming of the boy next door,

He is so cute your heart hits the floor,

You eat Southern fried chicken, hear those prayer requests,

Folks testifying "they have done their best"

How they were looking for a place to call home,

I was a kid so I sat humming "Where the buffalo roam,"

Down through the years, I've came a long way,

I still try to live by the words he had to say,

Life was never easy being a preacher's kid,

I thank God for the things my daddy did.

© copyright ~Johnnie Oakes~ 6/24/02

Thanks Daddy, I love you.