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A Little More Like You
Words and Music by Robert Ferguson
Copyright 1999 A Seed Among Thorns Music / BMI

Tiny hands reaching up to mine.
Smiling face, like an angel how it shines.
And he reaches up and puts his arms around me.
And I hold him close, as he whispers softly,

My hands aren't big at all.
And I'll never stand quite as tall.
My feet will never fit into your shoes.
And it's hard to see from your point of view.
But I pray, some day.

I want to be, I want to be, I want to be,
A little more like you.

Oygen streaming into his body.
Pale and frail in the hospital bed.
And I reach down and put my arms around him.
And he holds me close, and I whisper to him, Daddy

My hands aren't big at all.
And I'll never stand quite as tall.
My feet will never fit into your shoes.
And it's hard to see from your point of view.
But I pray, some day.

I want to be, I want to be, I want to be,
A little more like you.

Well, the boy, oh, how he grows.
And the death of his Daddy how it hurt him so.
But if you listen real close,
When he falls to his knees to pray,
If you listen real close,
You can hear him say, oh, Father,

My hands aren't big at all.
And I'll never stand quite as tall.
My feet will never fit into your shoes.
And it's hard to see from your point of view.
But I pray, some day.
I want to be, I want to be, I want to be,
A little more like you.



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