My dad has an inspiring stories
My dad has an unforgetable stories
Sunday Morning on the terrace
My dad sits down and gets his coffee
And tells me stories

Little child
Working in the hot sun
And little child
Walking on the long street
And little child
Delivering a heap of newspaper door to door
Take himself hardly
In every steps of his foots
Take himself hardly
Under the hot sun that brighter and brighter
My dad’s stories
And the brown-faced child, listening
Realizes that my dad’s stories are true stories
He realizes that my dad’s stories are never lie
Out of any script at all
But that the stories come
Right now in front of his face

The brown-faced child is silent
In a Sunday Morning
Listening to My Dad’s Stories

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