Little David's Harp

Little David was our son, born on Christmas day

Blind at birth, he never saw the harp his fingers played

The harp that came the day he was born, from where we just don't know

A harp like none you've ever seen, for it was solid gold

Little David learned to play it at such an early age

No one had to teach him, he just learned it right away

And we would stare in disbelief as his hands moved 'cross the strings

And when he played, it seemed to be you could hear the angels sing

He was four, then he was five, and then he was six years old

And the songs he played on his harp were something to behold

There was something heavenly in the way that David smiled

Little David was so different from the average child

Then there was a storm on Christmas morning

And the snow brought such a chill

Little David's seven now, lays so quiet and still

His hands reached out to touch his harp, as gently he caressed it

The angels came for him that night and on the seventh year he rested

Little David's playing now in God's angel band

He's gone home to Heaven now, the way that it was planned

But on his birthday every year, which falls on Christmas day

All through the house we hear the harp that little David played