Our Daddy could play music
With a banjo on his knee
And a sweet harmonica
To accompany
He could play any instrument or music
From a humn to the blues
And he always made us laugh
When he made music from the
squeaking of his shoes
He had a drum set on his right
And cymbols strapped to his knees
Leaving his hands free
To play piano keys
He loved to solo on accordion
Hawaiian guitar or banjo
He would play them all the time
He was a music making Rambo!
He had no preference to instrument
He loved them one and all
But gradma used to complain
It shook the pictures off the wall
And he was always keeping time
With a foot tapping the floor
And all eleven of us kids
Hollerin' and singin' for more
Now sisters and brothers have his talent
It was passed on down to them
And every time they sing or play
I'd swear it was him again
He was a music makin' Rambo
His music was everything
And if his hands were busy
He'd just whistle or sing
He was a music makin' Rambo
This Daddy of ours
And now that he's in heaven
He's playin' harp among the stars
