Well, bless the boy who broke the chain!
Escaped the life of picking grain
Erased the old and putrid stain
Of not living his life.
He drove himself, persisted through
And flew over the oceans blue
Fulfilled the need to start anew
And found himself a wife.
They’ll buy a farm with cows to breed,
Dig up the earth and plant the seeds,
And work until their fingers bleed
To build and grow.
“Now when my son is ripe of age
Controls his life with adult gauge
And asks to leave, to turn a page,
I’ll let him go.”