A Poor Man's Gold Lyrics

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

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

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

YouTube Results (More on YouTube)