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On the wall of our home there hangs a picture
Of a man who is very dear to me
Each time I gaze upon his face there's so much I recall
The memories of my father lives in a picture on our wall
He stands alone on his fishing boat heading out to sea
Pride in being a fisherman is there for all to see
The rushing wind , the foam capped waves he dearly loved it all
The memory of my father lives in a picture on our wall
My father loved the outdoor life and the sound of nature's call
Like fishing in the summer time or hunting in the fall
Hard work was his way of life oft times he'd lend a hand
But he made sure he had the time for good music and old friends.
Then one night the angels came and took him up on high
They left no word of warning, no chance to say good-bye
He left this world in the place that he loved most of all
The memory of my father lived in the picture on our wall.
He stands alone on his fishing boat heading out to sea
Pride in being a fisherman is there for all to see
The rushing wind , the foam capped waves he dearly loved it all
The memory of my father lives in a picture on our wall