Lyrics
It's the feeling that I get holding my brand new baby
Holding on to daddy's thumb just as tightly as he can hold
And it's hearin' people say he looks a lot like his daddy
These things are a poor man's gold

It's the twinkle in the eyes of the gray haired old man we call grandpa
Tellin' tales to the kids that get taller every time they're told
And it's knowin' that for a while he's no longer lonely
These things are a poor man's gold

It's the smell of honeysuckle in the springtime
It's the silence of a freshly fallen snow
It's the sound of children laughing in the sunshine
It's a crisp autumn night with a million stars all aglow
And it's the sweet sleepy sound of your warm gentle breathing

As you cling to me in the night to keep away the cold
And it's the softness of your body there in the darkness
These things are a poor man's gold
Honey, these precious things are a poor man's gold

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): MAC DAVIS




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