I had an uncle named Matthew,
He was his father's only boy.
Born just south of Colby, Kansas,
He was his mother's pride and joy.
Yes and joy was just the thing that he was raised on,
Love was just a way to live and die,
Gold was just a windy Kansas wheat field,
Blue was just a Kansas summer sky.
All the stories that he told me,
Back when I was just a lad,
All the memories that he gave me,
And all the good times that he had.
Growing up a Kansas farm boy,
Life was mostly having fun.
Riding on his daddy's shoulders,
Behind a mule, beneath the sun.
Yes and joy was just the thing that he was raised on,
Love was just a way to live and die,
Gold was just a windy Kansas wheat field,
Blue was just a Kansas summer sky.
Well, I guess there were some hard times,
And I'm told some years were lean.
They had a storm in '47,
Twister came and stripped them clean.
He lost the farm, he lost his family,
He lost the wheat, he lost his home,
But he found the family Bible,
Faith as solid as a stone.
Yes and joy was just the thing that he was raised on,
Love was just a way to live and die,
Gold was just a windy Kansas wheat field,
Blue was just a Kansas summer sky.
So he came to live at our house,
And he came to work the land,
He came to ease my daddy's burdens,
And he came to be my friend.
So I wrote this down for Matthew,
And it is for him this song is sung,
Riding on his daddy's shoulders,
Behind a mule, beneath the sun.
Yes and joy was just the thing that he was raised on,
Love was just a way to live and die,
Gold was just a windy Kansas wheat field,
Blue was just a Kansas summer sky.
Yes and joy was just the thing that he was raised on,
Love was just a way to live and die,
Gold was just a windy Kansas wheat field,
Blue was just a Kansas summer sky.