Daddy Played the Banjo

Daddy played the banjo, 'neath the yellow tree,
 It rang across the backyard, an old time melody,
 I loved to hear the music, I was only five,
 I listened as his fingers made the banjo come alive.
 Sometimes I'd wake up at night, and hear a distant tune,
 The banjo would echo, 'round my childhood room,
 I'd sneak down the back stairs, Daddy never knew.
 I'd grab a broom and make believe, I was pickin', too.
 One day Daddy put my fingers down upon his fist,
 He picked it with his other hand, we made the banjo ring;
 Now the music takes me back, cross the yellow day,
 Soon the summer's with my Dad, and the tunes he made.
 But I'm just tellin' lyes 'bout the things I did,
 See I'm that banjo player who never had a kid,
 Now, I sit, beneath that yellow tree,
 Hopin' that a kid somewhere, is listening to me.
 Daddy played the banjo, 'neath the yellow tree,
 It rang across the backyard and wove a spell on me,
 Now the banjo takes me back, through the foggy haze,
 With memories of what never was, become the good old days.