So long ago it seems I was born
And from day one loved so to write
Back when I was only sixteen years
I'd document them all so of a night
So much then so real to write about
Always in life from every day to day
Telling of things then that mattered
In life so many slowly made their way
Sure we too had God back then as well
But it was old time religion ever true
We didn't expect God to live our lives
As so many now these days seem to do
We worked so hard during each day
We slept so peacefully every night
Provided only what a family needed then
And after dinner often sat to write
and the Bush man out their in the wild
Sat by a camp fire warm with stars above
And appreciated all of the gifts of life
As he'd write of them with sincere love.