You was a baby like I was once,
You was crying in the early morning,
You was born in a stable, Lord,
Reid Memorial is where I was born,
And they wrapped you in swaddling clothes,
Me, they dressed in baby blue.

I was twelve years old in the meeting house, I listened to the old men pray,
And I was trying hard to figure out what it was that they was trying to say,
There you were in the temple,
They said you weren't old enough to know the things you knew.

Well, did you grow up hungry? Did you grow up fast?
Did the little girls giggle when you walked past?
Did you wonder what it was that made them laugh?
And did they tell you stories 'bout the saints of old?
Stories about their faith?
They say stories like that make a boy grow bold,
Stories like that make a man walk straight.

And you was a boy like I was once,
Was you a boy like me?
Well, I grew up around Indiana, you grew up around Galilee,
If I ever really do grow up, I want to grow up and be just like you.

Well, did you wrestle with a dog and lick his nose?
Did you play beneath the spray of a water hose?
Did you ever make angels in the winter snow?
And did they tell you stories 'bout the saints of old?
Stories about their faith?
They say stories like that make a boy grow bold,
Stories like that make a man walk straight.

Did you ever get scared playing hide and seek?
Did you try not to cry when you scraped your knee?
Did you ever skip a rock across a quiet creek?
And did they tell you stories 'bout the saints of old?
Stories about their faith?
They say stories like that make a boy grow bold,
Stories like that make a man walk straight.

And I really may just grow up and be like you someday