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«If I Sing»
My father’s pride was in his hands,
The piano was his soul.
I watched and wondered as he played show tunes
Miles off from rock and roll.
What he loved he taught me,
Now music’s what I do.
And often, when I’m writing,
In my hands, Dad’s there too.
If I sing
You are the Music,
If I fly
You’re why I’m put,
If my hands can find some magic,
You’re the one who said they could.
When the child who still inside me
Finds a song in empty air,
When there is joy in making music
It is you who put it there.
My dad grew old, his hands grew numb
And now he cannot play.
I came to visit. He sat an asked me:
«How could it be this way?».
I couldn’t find an answer,
I played this tune for him instead.
My father sat there smiling,
For he knew what it’s said.
If I sing
You are the Music,
If I love
You taught me how.
Every day your heart is beating
In the man that I am now.
If my ears are tuned to wander,
If when I reached the chords are there,
If there is joy in making music,
It’s the joy that we both share…
I never told you –
It took time till I could see,
That if I sing –
You are the music,
And you’ll always sing in me.
Yes, you’ll always sing in me.
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