He liked to blow bubbles
How charming a man, of elderly years
who walked through a town, where nobody hears
his clothes were of old, yet perfectly worn
well kept though they stayed, and never were torn
a buttoned-down shirt, always tucked in
brown corduroy pants, were ever so thin
he liked to blow bubbles
A casual stroll, leaning behind
though pomp did he have, with an ever great mind
oh worry he not, the sky it so blue
filled his eyes with a sparkle, and his smile so too
his belly so grand, good portions he had
but something not food, that made him so glad
he liked to blow bubbles
The sound of his voice, was ever so high
few words from his mouth, yet no one asked why
not anxious at all, some bid him a fool
though wisdom he holds, so precious a jewel
oh pleasant he was, the joy of his heart
though not from his own, this treasurest part
he liked to blow bubbles
He hoped in a man, though some say he was
who gave of himself, like anyone does
yet different indeed, than any one man
they called him a son, who opens his hands
he fills you with life, some people did say
so life filled his heart, one incredible day
he liked to blow bubbles
As I gaze at the street, I see him not there
what keeps him today, my minds' not aware
I ponder his peace, and think of his joy
where is this good man, I've seen since a boy
it's been quite a while, that he's walked down our street
I remember his face, when our eyes used to meet
he liked to blow bubbles
My mind fills with thoughts, when I think of him now
the gold-laden streets, he must walk on so proud
what joy he must have, now all's said and done
his hope is fulfilled, and his victory won
and now not alone, as often was here
a family he has, and nothing to fear
he liked to blow bubbles
