When I was little I worked so hard for the money I did spend.

A penny here, a nickel there, or a dime my Aunt would send.

Then one day I saw the prize, a Red Ryder B.B. Gun.

It was at the dime store where I buy fake teeth and packs of bubble gum.

A work of art, it shined like gold and took my breath away,

When I saw the price my heart fell, so much I could not pay.

But right then my mind made up, I’d work and scrimp and save,

Gone were the days of nickel shows, the Saturday matinees.

The price you see was two ninety-five, a fortune when you’re nine,

I reached in my pocket and dug real deep, I only had a dime.

I left the store like the Flash himself and ran to see Timmy Hays,

Where he sat on his porch with a hole in his heart and dreamed of better days.

Timmy and I were life long friends, he got sick and almost died,

He couldn’t do much; just sit on the porch and hurt so bad he cried.

I told him about the B.B. gun, his eyes shined like the sun,

He talked of the day he could have one too, so we could have some fun.

I left his house with big ideas, and began to worry and run,

And think about how long it would take to save such a great big sum.

I forgot about what Timmy said and how his eyes had shown,

I just ran past him all summer long where he sat there all alone.

I bought the gun the day he died with the money I had earned,

When I learned of his death, I ran straight to his house, for my friend I began to yearn.

I then ran to the woods where we had played and cried myself all out,

The gun didn’t shine like it once done; I hated it and began to shout.

As I left the woods, the gun heavy as lead, for my friend I began to grieve,

On my way home I hid the thing, in a pile of leaves.

When I got home my folks ask me, where was the B.B. gun,

I told them a lie that I hadn’t bought it yet and back to the woods I run.

I got it out of that pile of leaves, for the gun I didn’t care,

I took it back to Timmy’s house and put it in his empty chair.

I ran home and went to bed and cried myself to sleep,

I cried for a friend I’d never see again because of a pain so deep.

They buried him on a cloudless morn with that B.B. gun,

In heaven his eyes are shining bright where he is having fun.

This same sad story is about Jesus Christ, do you forsake him for your gain?

Do you do run past Him setting on His throne with His heart in pain?

Do you bury Him all the time with your worldly toys?

Or do you go to Him each day to share eternal joy.

Don’t treat Him like I did Timmy Hays, spend some time with Him,

Or you’ll die with a hole in your heart, with toys and worldly sin.

 Copyright 2004 JEC