Daddy's Hands

My daddy's hands are huge
In a single motion, a safe refuge.

They make a swing and let me play
and definately scare the monsters away.

They are always ready to catch me if I fall
And even spank me, which I don't like at all.

His hands fix many scraped knees
He can fix anything, or so it seems to me.

He tickles a smile onto my face
And pulls me close to him, cuz thats my place.

He pats my head as I walk by
And he teaches me that it's ok to cry.

And even through all the years as I've grew
His hands just seemed to grow too.

And even when I'm big- and he grows old
I'll still always have my daddy's hand to hold.