They used to make me go to church, clip-on tie, starch the shirt
I never heard the preacher's words slouched down in that pew
These days going to church is something I don't have to do, I get to
I used to have to hang with Dad, wash his car, and cut the grass
It took all day and I hated that 'til his heart attack last June
These days helping Dad is something I don't have to do, I get to
I get to wake up early, I get to go to work
I get to make an honest living, put my hands down in the dirt
I get hear grandma complain about all her little aches and pains
I get to rock my baby girl to sleep, spend my weekends coaching little league
There's a lot of things I don't have to do, I get to
I used to have to say those words, you always seemed to say them first
I dreamt one night you left this earth, I woke up and reached for you
Now I realize I don't have to say "I love you," I get to
