You told me you were a cowboy;
I called you John Wayne.
You said you were off to work;
there were dragons to be slain.
You taught me how to swim;
I believed you were a merman.
You fixed a creaky door;
“my favourite handyman”.

You could soar with the sunrise
and dive like the moon.
You knew everything there was to know,
and you were a Christmas day tycoon.

But I’ve never seen you ride a horse,
and fantasy makes you yawn,
I can swim for myself,
And I heard you were proven wrong?

Diving hurts your back,
and soaring’s not my thing.
But you’ll always be my superstar,
no matter how we’re growing.