Daddy and me

When the whistle blows,
Everyone comes to see
What the fuss is all about,
‘Twas no different with me.

With me riding shotgun,
Daddy would drive fast
To climb up in the fire truck
And put on the breathing mask.

When I saw the truck leave,
I’d get out of the car,
Walk up to the firehouse,
And hope Daddy wouldn’t go far.

I’d drop down to my knees,
Pray that he’d be safe,
That God would bring him back,
And Daddy’d have no grave.

Once I was of age,
I would ride with Daddy.
Sometimes we’d make a truck together,
That always made me happy.

Serving with my father,
Makes me as proud as can be,
He doesn’t have to say it,
I know he’s proud of me.

by; Alison - Clayton fire company, usa