My father was a clever man; he worked all his life,
And all because he loved us so, his only child and wife.
I cannot quite remember him, his face I don’t recall,
But this I know for certain sure; he loved me most of all.

He was my greatest hero, an example I embraced.
Oh, I wish so very much, I could recall his face.
Working all the hours God gave, he worked the live-long day;
In fact, he worked so very much, he worked his life away.

I hardly ever saw him then; those days went by so fast,
And thank the Heavens now I say, they’re all in the past.
If I asked to play with him or sought a kindly sign,
All he ever said was, “I just don’t have the time”.

Well, not to worry now, poor man he’s long gone.
I survived my darkest night, then emerged into the dawn.
But Dad had taught me well; I feel I’m ready now,
To start out on my own, somewhere and somehow.

I studied hard and studied long, I was quickly in demand,
And very soon it seemed I was the best in all the land.
Money is no object now, the more I work I make,
And very soon, all too soon, dad’s memory did fade.

One day I met a lovely girl, so beautiful and kind.
Such a girl I’d never seen and never thought to find.
Quickly married, we settled down; soon I had a son,
And sometimes I played with him – if my work was done.

My hours were long, my work was hard, I had no time at all.
My son’s endearing chuckle became a hideous bawl.
When he wanted to play with me, or cried or gave a whine,
I passed him quickly by and said, “I just don’t have the time”.

And so the days and weeks and months, flew fast, by and by.
I did want to make some time; honest – I did try.
But my work was important – couldn’t let my boss down,
And so I lived to work each day, despite the wife’s frown.

Now I’m in my dotage; my son has become a man.
I taught him everything I know, I’ve done all I can.
But age has made me pensive, now that we’re apart,
I truly know I failed him, deep down in my heart,

So I called him at work last night; fast beat my poor heart.
“Fancy a chat, a drink and a bite to eat, son?” I asked.
It was just after ten I think; I heard the hall clock chime.
“Working dad,” was all he said. “I just don’t have the time.”