That's my son Wouldn't touch a gun Wouldn't hurt a fly Not afraid to cry My job is done What a son! That's my boy Hope he doesn't change Well let him be different But still the same He won't need Freud Not this boy! Up, up he goes Like a tree grows and grows And in the wind Swings to and fro To and fro To and fro Now he's a man But it's a disguise He's still a baby in his mama's eyes There's nothing bigger than A little man Up, up he goes Like a tree grows and grows And in the wind Swings to and fro To and fro To and fro Up, up he goes Like a tree grows and grows And in the wind Swings to and fro To and fro To and fro That's my son Wouldn't touch a gun Wouldn't hurt a fly Not afraid to cry I'm a lucky one My job is done Yo that's my son He's not afraid to cry