Little princess, my princess, I know that you are.
I’ll sit on your bedside and plunk my guitar.
He called me his princess and lingered awhile.
The love there was wordless, a touch or a smile.
And when I was all grown and moved far away,
When I came home, he’d still sit on my bedside and say:
Little princess, my princess, I know that you are.
I’ll sit on your bedside and plunk my guitar.
I’ve lived by his warm touch for so many years.
His words and his music still ring in my ears.
His ways were so gentle, his smile made me glad.
I’ll always, forever, be proud of my Dad.
I miss my dear Dad and I often recall,
His words at my bedside when I was so small.
At bedtime in our house at the end of the day,
I stop by each bedside, I strum and I say:
Little princess, my princess, I know that you are.
I’ll sit on your bedside and plunk my guitar.
I’ve always loved this song. I was just a little older than Asa when Grandpa died. I wish I could have gotten to know him better. I remember him making me rubber band & bandaid can guitar, kissing my hands when we would arrive for a visit, gluing the broken little wooden barbie doll table when I took it to him downstairs in his workshop and once I remember him being very mad about the cat attacking the birds outside. The things I remember are good, and remind me of you. I think you are very much like him.