“A friend of mine told me about her dad, when she was 6. The light in her eyes, and in her soul. Spoke this song.”
She’d climb onto his lap most every day
Ask him please to tickle her and play
He’d drink the coffee that she made
Though it must have tasted terrible, they say
He’d stop before he’d leave and wait
For the kiss she had to give him at the gate
He built a swing out in the yard
Pushed her high, but not too hard
Brought home injured birds and strays
Knowing what would heal her heart always
Taught her gentle strength in little ways
In the ordinary moments, ordinary days
You can paint the house a different shade
You can pull the hedge, let the old things fade
You can take the swing down from the tree
But you can’t take what he gave to me
‘Cause wisdom doesn’t hang on nails and rope
Wisdom lives in how we love and hope
Long after wood and metal rust away
What a father leaves, in his daughter stays
Now she tends to wounded things that fly
Talks to plants and asks them why
Makes sure the geckos get their light
Draws the hurt from souls in healing rite
Feels the pain folks hide inside
Loves with that same gentle pride
They tore the swing down years ago
But she still holds what she needs to know
About a good man, how he shows
His love in small ways as she grows
The coffee wasn’t coffee, see?
It was him saying “you matter to me”
The kiss wasn’t just goodbye
It was “I see you” in reply
You can paint the house a different shade
You can pull the hedge, let the old things fade
You can take the swing down from the tree
But you can’t take what he gave to me
‘Cause wisdom doesn’t hang on nails and rope
Wisdom lives in how we love and hope
Not the swing, but what the swing was for —
Teaching her what fathers are
All we get to keep’s the wisdom that we hold
Not the swing, but how he loved her — that’s the gold