My Fathers Killers

The old man a child beaten until sore
He was deaf not didn't want to know any more
His parents didn't discover until he was a man
His skin so tough he's called ostrich skin Stan
Then he discovered a faith in a proud people
Yes he had something to shout about at life's steeple
His tools a brush and a piece of canvas
Try he always did not to curse or cuss
My father a child beaten until sore
He was deaf and knew nothing more
From his gentle lips always came wisdom and love
The clotted creamers told me he needs the shove
They told me he was sick and never ever there
The truth was he loved and always he did care
They wanted my parents right out of my life
God it gave me nothing but such strife
To even think of saying it to the ones I love
Took me years to put it back right like a glove
To undo what the clotted creamers had said
But sadly not until after dear father was dead