Thanks For Not Bein' There

V7.6
05:12
2026-02-18
12
country, heartfelt, steel-string acoustic, slow 6/8 sway, warm baritone
9
[Intro]
Verse 1
Well, Mama said you were a drifter,
A wild card, born to roam.
You left before my first steps,
Didn’t leave even a comb.
And I spent half my childhood
Lookin’ for a man I’d never meet—
But every empty birthday
Put some iron in my feet.
Verse 2
Kids at school had perfect fathers,
Showed ‘em how to fish and fight.
Mine was somewhere barroom wanderin’
God-knows-where on Friday night.
So I learned to bait my own hook,
Stand my ground and swing if need—
Turns out missin’ you was just
The training that made me me.
Chorus
So here’s to the tough days,
To the nights I stood alone.
To the busted knuckles, broken pride,
Growin’ up on my own.
You didn’t give me much to go on,
Didn’t teach me right from wrong—
But your not bein’ there, well hell,
It made me twice as strong.
Verse 3
I finally met you grown and older—
Gray hair, shaky hands and all.
You said, “Son, I know I failed ya,”
I said, “Nah, man, I learned to brawl.
Life gets rough and life gets dirty,
And I can take a hit or ten…
You might not have raised me right,
But you raised one hell of a man.”
Chorus
So here’s to the tough days,
To the nights I stood alone.
To the busted knuckles, broken pride,
Growin’ up on my own.
You didn’t give me much to go on,
Didn’t teach me right from wrong—
But your not bein’ there, well hell,
It made me twice as strong.
Bridge
Now don’t think I’m thankin’ you
For runnin’ out the door—
But every time I fell down hard
I came back wantin’ more.
You taught me one life lesson
By the way you disappeared:
If you want something worth havin’,
You gotta face your damn fears.
Final Chorus
So here’s to the tough days,
To the nights I stood alone.
To the busted knuckles, broken pride,
Growin’ up on my own.
You didn’t give me much to go on,
Didn’t teach me right from wrong—
But the man I am, I owe somehow
To the ghost you chose to be…
Yeah, thanks for not bein’ there—
It sure as hell toughened me.