Words and Music by Phil Morgan

Bobby'd ride his bike right past our house each afternoon,
He'd always wave at me and grin.
Then rush to Bailey's diner and pick up his mop and broom,
And say "Hi" to every person that walked in.

Grownups would shake their heads and say it's such a shame,
Mindless work is all he'll ever do.
Bobby won't amount to much, he'll never make a name,
But I knew something nobody else knew.

Every Sunday morning I would sit near Bobby's pew,
With yellow pad and pencil in he came.
At prayer time we shared our concerns, there were always quite a few,
And I watched as Bobby slowly wrote each name.

Bobby prays, everyday.
Like a child talks to his daddy, he knows just what to say.
Simple words, but that's O.K.,
I know God smiles everyday when Bobby prays.

I grew up and moved away, and my life just turned out bad,
Some days I could hardly stand the pain.
So I packed my bags and moved back home with mom and dad,
It was time to take a walk down memory lane.

I strolled by Bailey's and stopped in for cherry pie,
There was Bobby still pushing his broom.
He came up and hugged me, said "I hope you feel fine,
Cause everyday, Bobby prays for you."

Then I had to wipe a tear because I finally saw,
Bobby's got the most important job of all.


I know God smiles everyday ... when Bobby prays.


© 1996 Jammin' Gentile Music, BMI