on a plane to the west coast, laptop on my tray
papers spread across my seat, a big deadline to make
an older man sitting next to me said, “sorry to intrude,
thirty years ago my busy friend, i was you.
i made a ton of money and i climbed up the ladder,
yeah, i was superman, not what does it matter.
i missed the first steps my daughter took
the time my son played captain hook in ‘peter pan’
i was in new york, said ‘sorry son, dad has to work’
i missed the father daughter dance
the first home run, no second chance
to be there when he crossed the plate
the moment’s gone now it’s too late
fame and fortune come with a heavy price
son, don’t miss your life.”
funny you should say that, i was sitting at the gate
my daughter called, she made straight a’s and they’re off to celebrate.
scrolling through the pictures of my little family
my daughter with her mom and friends, not a single one with me.
they know i love ’em, i know they know i care
the truth is half the time, i’m not even there.
i missed our fourth and fifth anniversary
our girl was early by a week
her sister had to hold her hand
i was in l.a., she said “i understand”
i missed her first day of school
then what kind of crazy fool
lets such precious moments p-ss
we all know time goes way too fast
hold on tight ‘cause it don’t happen twice
don’t miss your life.
when i get off this plane, i’ll buy a turn-around ticket
sat-rday’s her eighth birthday and i’m not gonna miss it
there’ll be balloons and birthday cake
and i’ll clean up the mess they make
my mom and dad are drivin’ in
i haven’t seen ’em in god knows when
my wife will probably say to me
“i thought you were supposed to be in portland
for a few more days”, i’ll take her in my arms and say
“i heard some words that hit me hard last night,
a man said: ‘don’t miss your life’.”