O Father of Mine
A more curious man, one never did know
Your humor is dry as desert rocks
Cracking up under the chisel of life
Travailing through the desert
To uncover hidden tombs of laughter
And the irony of it all

The book of life
Written deep in your left brain
You have surveyed all the fittings
To secure the instruments of integrity
You've held all the books, alway in your palms
And set your children to the standard
To hold them up high