He is riding on a horse In my childhood memories. He's teaching me how to hold the reigns, Or sometimes he is whistling. As he opens the garage When it's time to mow the lawn, Or we're riding in his car With the country station on. Sometimes he feels far away When I am in my high school life, But he is standing in the back With a camera to his eye. And I am in The Sound of Music, And he is there to be my fan. I am a nun like fifteen others, But he knows which one I am. Some say dads are not the same, And that they don't have tender hearts, And they are not for kissing bruises; They're here to play a different part. And I don't know about other men, I only know what I can see, And I have seen my father's mighty tears, And I know they fall for me. And these days I hold him close Though we live so far apart. Most times a Sunday phone line Connects the space between our hearts. I know he lives a complicated life In this complicated world, But I hope he never will forget That I am still his little girl.