Scrapbook Songs, Leader of the Band

An only child alone and wild, a cabinet-maker's son
His hands were meant for different work and his heart was known to none
He left his home and went his lone and solitary way
He gave to me a gift I know I never can repay
A quiet man of music, denied a simpler fate
He tried to be a soldier once, but his music wouldn't wait
He earned his love through discipline, a thund'ring velvet hand
His gentle means of sculpting souls took me years to understand

The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs thru my instrument and his song is in my soul
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band

My brother's lives were different, for they heard another call
One went to Chicago, another to St. Paul
And I'm in Colorado when I'm not in some motel
Living out this life I chose and have come to know so well
I thank you for the music and your stories of the road
I thank you for the freedom when it came my time to go
I thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough
And, Papa, I don't think I've said "I love you" near enough.

Repeat chorus