More of a Man

I took my Granddad's. 22
When I was in the second grade
I shot a deer right in heart
And rubbed his blood upon my face

The summer when I turned sixteen
I got up each day before the dawn
Was building barns, and bailing hay
Worked harder than the day was long

Now I'm thirty
And I have three kids
I watch Dora the Explorer in the morning
I feel the sad truth sinking in:
Maybe I was more of a man back then

It used to be that my daily fare
Was chicken-fried steak and barbeque
I had Dr. Pepper every meal
And ice cream when the day was through

Now I'm watching my cholesterol
My metabolism's obviously slowing
Tonight it's salad once again
Surely I was more of a man back then

I used to watch Jean-Claude Van Damme
Killing guys on the silver screen
Now every night, with the kids in bed
We watch Gilmore Girls on DVD

Surely I was more...

So I suck in my protruding gut
On our monthly dinner night
You're saying something 'bout the kids
As I watch these young men pass me by

I remember I was just like them
I was lonely, but I called it independence
And if lonesome is what manly is
Baby I was more of a man back then