Give the dad who wants nothing a real thank-you

The lyrics

Another gift receipt, huh, Dad? Not this year.

You returned the wallet, kept the box, re-gifted that cologne, said fifty's just a number, kid — then mowed the lawn alone. Same truck, same boots, same Saturday — the rattle in the dash you call a song.

You say you need nothing. Funny — you gave us everything.

Here's to the man who needs nothing — who worked the years and never kept the score, whose one-liners run this family, whose handshake built the door. You can't return this one, old man — it's already yours.

You showed up early, stayed past late, fixed whatever we dragged home, the smell of sawdust on your flannel, coffee burnt the way you want. You never asked for thanks out loud. So here it is — turned up.

You say you need nothing. You gave us everything.

Here's to the man who needs nothing — who worked the years and never kept the score, whose one-liners run this family, whose handshake built the door. You can't return this one, old man — it's already yours.

Fifty years from now they'll quote you at tables you'll never see — "measure twice," "we're burning daylight" — the gospel according to Dad.

Here's to the man who needs nothing — who worked the years and never kept the score, whose one-liners run this family, whose handshake built the door. You can't return this one, old man — it's already yours.

No receipt this year, Dad. No returns.