His life is that blue bike
Ball glove and fishing pole
Tree house, BB Gun, and Band-Aid covered knees
He does good delivering papers
And cuttin' grass for the neighbors
Except for Widow Wilson; he cuts hers for free
His little hands do a lot for a kid his age
He puts one tenth of his hard earned money
In the offering plate each Sunday by his own choice
There's a lot of man in that little boy
Weekdays he tries to sleep late
Weekends he's up at day break
Him and Roy wadin' in Cotton Creek
That dog was like his brother
You see one, you see the other
Cut one, and both of them would bleed
Tires screamed, but that old truck couldn't stop
There's the tree that he buried him under
He made a cross from scraps of lumber
And on it carved 'God Bless Old Roy'
There's a lot of man in that little boy
There's a house down where he goes fishing
He told his mom, "those kids got nothin'
And I don't need all these toys"
There's a lot of man in that little boy
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