When my daughter was only three,
She was as independent as can be,
On the playground she could hear me calling,
“Wait for me! I don’t want you falling.”
But she would race toward the slide,
Even at that tender age she had pride,
“Me do it!” she would stubbornly insist,
She refused my help and would resist,
Hardheaded and independent, (just like her father).
So why should I try to help? Why even bother?
As the years passed by, I didn’t get any wiser,
I didn’t save love and I didn’t become a miser,
I didn’t seek truth from wise men near and far,
I relied on myself to follow a distant star,
“Me do it!” I shouted to the heavens above,
“Why do I need help to learn the ways of love?”
Fair maidens passed often in the depths of night,
But their hearts were broken, sad was their plight,
I was too independent so I remained alone,
Hard-headed but sad, my heart turned to stone,
Who could open her heart and give me a chance?
Who could love enough to spark new romance?
I learned to accept help from any source I can,
I became less difficult; I became a calmer man,
With years of experience I became smarter too,
I decided not to rely on me; I wanted to depend on you,
Working and playing together as a team,
We could turn my world into a better dream,
Man was not meant to be alone,
“Help me please; melt my heart of stone!”