They said my name was Tim, Pa just nodded his head,
Six years that’s how it been! He had nothing to dread!
My pa left us a lot, After church we went home,
To what place I knew not! But we were not alone
He always returned to home, Charlie and Bob were there,
Fearing us being alone! Pa had friends everywhere.
Cattle or things he sold, Next morning it was hot,
That’s what they’d always told! Cousin Bob fired a shot.
We moved quite frequently, The house rattled with noise,
Had been for our safety! I discarded my toys.
Bad men wanted him dead Mother began to cry,
That’s what ma and pa said, “Oh husband, please don’t die.”
We last moved to St. Joe, Rushing into the room,
They’d said I’d like it so. Not knowing my pa’s doom.
Pa had many a name, Ma’s tears changed to a scream,
It’d been his little game. It was like a bad dream!
He’d joke about each one, “Bob you vicious coward,
No, we weren’t on the run. You’ve shot Mr. Howard.”
Pa loved us one and all, “I swear that I did not,
And told me to stand tall. Not me who fired the shot.”
The last gift he gave me, Grabbing my pa’s shotgun,
It was my first puppy. The worm began to run.
The preacher gave out palms Momma took it from me,
And then read from the psalms. Timmy just let it be!
He told us not to sin, Collapsed onto the floor,
Like Jesse James’ had been. Pa would be nevermore!