Hey Sport
[Verse 1] You learned to read the wind on the open sea, Came home with calloused hands and a family to feed. Now the garage is yours — sawdust on your sleeve, Sunday mornings humming while you cut and plane and weave. Duct tape on the faucet, stubbornness in the wall, Eighty years of holding every broken thing from the fall. [Chorus] Hey Walt, we're right here with you, In every board you've sanded smooth and true. Hey sport — yeah, you taught us that one too — Seventy, eighty, nothing's gonna slow down you. [Verse 2] The Weather Channel's rolling like a storm is rolling in, You call the front before it breaks and wear that knowing grin. John Denver's on the radio, you say it's just the dust, But we've seen those eyes go glassy and we love you all the more for it. We grew up in the echo of your voice down the hall, "Come here, sport" — two words that meant you'd catch us if we'd fall. [Chorus] Hey Walt, we're right here with you, In every board you've sanded smooth and true. Hey sport — yeah, you taught us that one too — Seventy, eighty, nothing's gonna slow down you.