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.
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.