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craig morgan - lotta man (in that little boy) lyrics

his life is that blue bike, ball glove an’ fishin’ pole,
tree-house, bb gun and band aid covered knees.
he does good deliverin’ papers,
an’ cuttin’ gr-ss for the neighbours,
except for widow wilson: he cuts hers for free.
his little hands do a lot for a kid his age,
he puts one-tenth of his hard earned money,
in the offering plate each sunday by his own choice.
there’s a lotta man in that little boy.

weekdays, he tries to sleep late:
weekends, he’s up at daybreak.
him an’ roy wadin’ in cotton creek.
that dog was like his brother:
you’d seen one, you’d see the other.
cut one an’ both of them would bleed.
tires screamed, but that ol’ truck couldn’t stop.
there’s the tree that he buried him under;
he made a cross from scr-ps of lumber,
an’ on it carved: “god bless ol’ roy.”
there’s a lotta man in that little boy.

there’s a house, down where he goes fishin’:
he told his mom: “those kids got nothin’,
“and i don’t need all these toys.”
there’s a lotta man.
(there’s a lotta man. there’s a lotta man.)
in that little boy

- craig morgan lyrics

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