If He Were Rich

Joey told me last night that he thinks his creativity is dead. Sometimes he can be pretty dramatic. So I told him he should write a song or something. I took NyQuil (the Armstrong immune systems are down lately) and drifted off to sleep after a long, fun weekend in Dallas for a fitness conference.

This morning as I was drowsily pulling my hair back into a ponytail for work, Joey came in and told me he’d gotten inspired. And here it is:

If I were rich, I’d have a nice house.

Three bedrooms, two bathrooms;

And it wouldn’t be in Taos.

If I were rich, I’d have a loving wife.

Pretty, graceful;

And she’d never cause me strife.

If I were rich, I’d have a loyal dog.

Happy, black and fat as a hog.

If I were rich, I’d have a little son;

Handsome, smiley, and a barrel of fun.

If I were rich, I’d have a job I liked.

Serving, leading, showing the love of Christ.

If I were rich, hey wait…I might be.

Everything I mentioned is

Right in front of me.

By Joseph Earl Armstrong

Well said, babe.

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