A Good Man
David was a golden boy
his mamma's only son
he'd pull his Converse high-tops on
and man, could David run.
Growing up south Arkansas
in 1952
free-throws and picture shows—
what more could a good boy do?
What more could a good boy do?
He never ran for president
his name was known by few
but everywhere that David went
well, he'd have some time for you.
What else would a good boy do?
David went to college
and he found himself a wife
got a job in Memphis
settled down into his life.
Their first child was a big surprise
right out of the blue
of course, he named him David
what else would a good boy do?
What else would a good boy do?
He never made a fortune
leastwise, that I knew
but he wrapped his family in his arms
and loved them strong and true.
What else would a good man do?
They say a good man's hard to find
I reckon that it's true—
and if that job paid any better
there wouldn't be so few.
So here's to all the good boys,
every mother's son
lace up your high-tops lads
long may you run.
Long may you run.
He could have done most anything—
spread his wings and flew
but he chose to stay here on the ground
to show his son just what to do.
What more could a good man do?
Yeah, you could have done most anything—
spread your wings and flew
but you chose to stay here on the ground
to show me what to do.
And I want to be a good man just like you.
I want to be a good man just like you.
