Papa -- Paul Anka

Ev'ry day my Papa worked to help to make ends meet, to see what we could eat,
keep those shoes upon my feet Ev'ry night my Papa would take and tuck me 
in my bed,  kiss me on my head after all my prayers were said

Growing up with him was easy time just flew on by. The years began to fly through
his age and so did I  I could tell that Mama wasn't well. Papa knew and deep down 
so did she, so did she  When she died, Papa broke down and cried.
All he said was "God, why not take me?"

Ev'ry night he sat there sleeping in his rocking chair. He never went upstairs, 
because she wasn't there  Then one day my Papa said: "son, I'm proud the way 
you go,  Make it on your own. Oh, I'll be okay alone

I could tell that Mama wasn't well. Papa knew and deep down so did she, so did she
When she died, Papa broke down and cried. All he said was "God, why not take me?"