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,