I never thought I'd break my heart o'er a man,
But now daddy's death -- well, it can.
No one loved me like my dad did,
No one loved my dad as I did.

Now see, he weren't my real daddy,
But I know this, he ought to be.
It was more than music which born us close.
Whatter was? I don't quite know.

I met him for the love of music,
At that time, only for music.
I'd play and learn, and when not,
I'd put off lessons so I want caught.

But something grew there somehow
My teacher said, "Don't pay no more."
I didn't pay, and I didn't play,
At least not for me, but him.

Dont get me wrong, I loved my banjo,
But more I loved his smile so,
When I played, it were t'make him proud.
He always smiled, even when I failed.

Then one day he said, "I got this disease,
Wrecks my body - it's called CRP.
Can't move my arm no more at all,
Can't play that banjo on the wall.

So dear daughter, I want you to take
My banjo and play it for my sake."
It were't a beautiful banjo from head to neck
And sounded true in every fret.

So I took his picker and he my heart
Though it was his from the start.
I had no dad and him no daughter.
I think we was made for th'otter.

But work came, and college, too.
I saw him fewer, fewer, few.
I didn't write, I didn't call,
I barely played for him at all.

When I came back, he smiled his smile
"Hello, dear daughter, it's been awhile. "
We couldn't hug like old because
His body wasn't what it was.

I played for him, but played all wrong,
I messed up song and song and song,
"I'm sorry dad, I'm really rusty,
Life has kept me way too busy."
Although in my heart I knew,
It weren't completely true.

"I missed you daughter, it's okay,
You'll play better this next Saturday."
He smiled and laughed when it was said.
But it weren't true. Tuesday he was dead.

I met him for the love of music.
Loved music for the love of him.
But now that my dad is gone,
How will I ever play again?