Cycle of the Son

I watched my son learn how to ride his bike yesterday,
One little push, and he was on his way.
His little legs going up and down,
The little tires going round and round.

I realized he grew up a bit that day.

I stopped running, out of breath,
A heaviness was in my chest.
Where was my Dad when I was young?
Why did he miss out on all the fun?

Somehow I think he's finding it through me.

I saw my son playing ball the other day,
He looked like me when I used to play.
Batting clean-up and playing third,
Switch-hitting now, how absurd.

I bet Dad would never let him play that way.

I saw my son driving down the road today,
He just waved, he was going the other way.
I saw his son looking back at me,
I wonder if someday he'll see.

Life is short, that's the price we pay.

It's the cycle of the son,
First you walk, then you run.
Wait for me boy, don't you go,
Things I've learned that you don't know.

It's the cycle of the son.