She was a busy-body, and her sister sat at the foot of her lord.
He took one little fish; over and over again he made them more.
I was a little boy, couldn’t walk, but he made me get up and run.
He gave me a voice and a reason to sing, a dancing purpose.
There she was to say, “Leave him alone; he’s serving the Lord,”
On the day I had black under my eyes; boys will be boys.