My folks they were always the first family to arrive
With seven people jammed into a car that seated five
There was one bathroom to bathe and shave in, six of us stood in line
And hot water for only three but we all did just fine
Talk about your miracles, talk about your faith
My dad he could make things grow out of Indiana clay
Mom could make a gourmet meal out of just cornbread and beans
And they worked to give faith hands and feet
And somehow gave it wings
I can still hear my dad cussin', he's working late out in the barn
And now they've raised five children, one winter they lost a son
But the pain didn't leave them crippled
And the scars have made them strong
Never picture perfect, just a plain man and his wife
Who somehow knew the value of hard work, good love, and real life
Chorus
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