Poor Mans Gold

Bm Dm A A A Bm7 E7 A It's the feeling I get, looking down at my brand new baby. A Bm E A Holding on to Daddy's thumb, just as tightly as he can hold. A7 D A And it's hearing people say, he looks alot like his daddy. Bm Dm A D A These things are a poor man's gold. A Bm E A It's the twinkle in the eyes, of the gray haired old man we call grandpa. A Bm E A Telling tales to the kids, that get taller every time they're told. A7 D A And it's knowing that for awhile, he's no longer lonely. Bm Dm A These things are a poor man's gold. A D A It's the smell of honeysuckle, in the springtime. A D A It's the silence of a freshly, fallen snow. A D F#m D It's the sound of children, laughing in the sunshine. D B7 E It's a crisp Autumn night, with a million stars all aglow. E Bm7 E7 Amaj7 And it's the sweet, sleepy sound, of your warm and gentle breathing. A Bm E7 Amaj7 As you cling to me in the night, to keep away the cold. A7 D A And it's the softness of your body, there in the darkness. Bm Dm A These things are a poor man's gold. A Bm Dm E7 E A Honey, these precious things; are a poor man's - gold.