Every night I lie in bed With this small prayer inside my head: Forgive me for what I've done bad. And, please, God, bless my mom and dad. Bless all of the children, too, And guide them all their whole life through. Bless the special little boy Who brings me so much love and joy.... Oh, God, there's one more thing to do I hoped that I might ask of you. You see, I have this little machine Where I have folks I've never seen. It's a little metal box That opens up so many locks. It holds more than just odds and ends, Inside it rest a hundred friends. Some, it's true, I've never met Or ever truly hugged, and yet, I'm certain of their love for me; It's in this box for me to see. For me to get to where they live And share the kindness that they give, I have this box called a "P.C.", And with it they can talk to me. I share with them things from above About You, and Your wondrous love. And so, if it's OK with you, Please, Lord, Bless my P.C., too. |