It wasn’t the bi-onic man that fixed my bike, When I got a puncture and my bike Tyre went flat, It was my dad with his bowl of water and some spoons, And he looked after that. It wasn’t Superman that put the Superman Wallpaper, Up upon my bedroom wall, And it wasn’t Withe, Gazza or Mirindinha, That taught me how to kick a ball. It wasn’t Wonder-Woman, that took me to hospital, In her invisible aeroplane, No it was my dad that drove me there, When I’d split me head open time and time again. It wasn’t Colonel Jim Porter, Making a batch of Homebrew Goon, No me fatha became a Master Home Brew Vinter, And he stored it in my teenage bedroom. It wasn’t the fairy god-mother, Taking us every year on foreign holidays, No yet again my dad paid for all of that, Despite his penny pinching ways. It wasn’t Alan Shearer in the Diamond, Seeing I was down on my luck on a big match night, No once again me Fatha stood up, It was him that bought me a pint. It wasn’t a make believe Superhero, Or a celebrity, that I wanted to be, I wish I could have been more like my dad, As he is my hero and always will be. It wasn’t the drink that made me write this dad, This is to show my love, my pride and my respect, You are my role model, my hero and I love you so much, I’ll say it again so you don’t forget… You are my role model, my hero and I love you so much, I’d better go & say happy fathers day, as my eyes are getting so wet.
Posted on: Sun, 16 Jun 2013 09:59:59 +0000
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