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