That's my son
Wouldn't touch a gun
Wouldn't hurt a fly
Not afraid to cry
My job is done
What a son!
That's my boy
Hope he doesn't change
Well let him be different
But still the same
He won't need Freud
Not this boy!
Up, up he goes
Like a tree grows and grows
And in the wind
Swings to and fro
To and fro
To and fro
Now he's a man
But it's a disguise
He's still a baby in his mama's eyes
There's nothing bigger than
A little man
Up, up he goes
Like a tree grows and grows
And in the wind
Swings to and fro
To and fro
To and fro
Up, up he goes
Like a tree grows and grows
And in the wind
Swings to and fro
To and fro
To and fro
That's my son
Wouldn't touch a gun
Wouldn't hurt a fly
Not afraid to cry
I'm a lucky one
My job is done
Yo that's my son
He's not afraid to cry
