His life is that blue bike
Ball glove and fishin' pole
Treehouse, BB gun
And Band-Aid covered knees
He does good deliverin' papers
And cuttin' grass for the neighbors
Except for Widow Wilson, he cuts hers for free
His little hands do a lot for a kid his age
He puts one-tenth of his hard earned money
In the offering plate each Sunday
By his own choice
There's a lotta man in that little boy
Weekdays, he tries to sleep late
Weekends, he's up at daybreak
Him and Roy wadin' in Cotton Creek
That dog was like his brother
You'd seen one, you'd see the other
Cut one and both of them would bleed
Tires screamed, but that ol' truck couldn't stop
There's the tree that he buried him under
He made a cross from scraps of lumber
And on it carved, "God Bless ol' Roy"
There's a lotta man in that little boy
There's a house, down where he goes fishin'
He told his mom, "Those kids got nothin'
And I don't need all these toys"
There's a lotta man
(There's a lotta man, there's a lotta man)
In that little boy
