I've missed fathers' days and birthdays and Sundays with my sons And hiking on the Blue Ridge with my daughter one-on-one I've traded time for money, traded nursery rhymes for song I've traded sleep for other dreams, traded always there for gone Some dads run the country and some just run away Some mop floors, some hang doors or anything that pays I sing and play my music; I take it across the land This glimpse of muse is brought to you by Abe and Gabe and Mahala Ann I didn't travel when they were first born, no I kept the fires at home With lullabies and early rise, I didn't seek to roam But the fire in me was growing; I couldn't keep it all inside Now it's passing trains and aerial planes and another ticket to write Now some dads wear a three-piece suit, others boots and gloves Some dads are out of work boys; I hope we face it all with love I sing and play my music with heart and lungs and hands This message too is brought to you by Abe and Gabe and Mahala Ann Sometimes I take them with me and one will pick my shirt out And one will set the stage and one will count the money before we drive away It goes without saying they made me what I am A father who is singing too to Abe and Gabe and Mahala Ann This glimpse of muse is brought to you by Abe and Gabe and Mahala Ann