What Was Precious and Good
Tiptoeing to our parent’s bed
Seeking a place to rest our head
A safe place from the nightmares
A warm place where someone cares
A place where your mother holds you
A place your father patiently consoles you
A place the booming thunder is far away
A place the boogieman is afraid to play
Where do we tiptoe to now we are grown
When the thunder booms and we are alone
Who will cradle us and soothe away our fears
Who will chase the monsters and wipe our tears
Who will we turn to when our dreams go wrong
Who will read us fairytales and sing our favorite song
Who will love us as our mother and father only could
Who will replace what was so precious and good?