I was born and raised down in Alabama on a farm way back up in the woods.Boy, I was so ragged, folks used to call me Patches.Papa used to tease me about it, but deep down inside,Dad was hurting because he'd done the best he could.Papa was a great old man.I can see him with a shovel in his hand.Education that he never had.But he did wonders when the times got bad.The little money from the crops we raised barely paid the bills we made.Oh, life whipped him down to the ground when he tried to get out alive, but kicked him back down.On the day Papa called me to his dying bed, placed his hand on my shoulders, and in tears he said,Patches, I'm depending on you, son.To pull the family through, my son, it's all left up to you.Two days later, Papa passed away, and I became a man that day.Every day I had to work the fields, cause that's the only way we got our mills.See, I was the oldest of the family.And everybody was depending on me.Now years have passed, and everybody's grown.Mama's been living in a brand new home.Lord knows it took a lot of sweat and tears, and my daddy's voice to help us through the years.He said, Patches, I'm depending on you, son.To pull the family through, my son, it's all left up to you.To pull the family through, my son, it's all left up to you.Daddy had been sick for a long time, flat on his back.Every evening after we'd finish our chores and eat our dinner,Daddy had been sick for a long time, flat on his back.We'd all go into Papa's room to cheer him up a little.And this particular day, Dad was in good spirits,sitting on the side of the bed telling Mama how good she looked.When all of a sudden, Papa had a pain in his chest.I was too young to understand, talking about a heart attack here.Mama rushed us all out of the room into the hallway.About ten minutes later, she came out with tears in her eyes.She called after me.Patches, Patches, get in here, boy.Your daddy want to see you.I went running into Papa's room.There, Papa lay.Daddy had tears in his eyes.I knew something was wrong.Daddy was a poor man, but all of my life, he'd been a proud man.I knelt down on one knee beside the bed.Papa put his hand on my shoulder.He said, Patches, Patches, boy,the hammer piped and beat your old Papa down to the ground.And I ain't got nobody to turn to, to take care of Mama and the young'un.So what I want you to do to promise me, son,is that you're gonna do your best to help your Mama as much as you can.I said, Papa, I'm gonna do my best.But little did I know then, like I know now,that trying to climb life's mountains, searching for a top where there ain't no top,sometimes you find yourself frustrated, lazy.But every time, I feel like I can't live without Papa.I can't live my life like I want to.My mind goes back to that day when I see those tears in my Daddy's eyes.But most of all, I remember his words.Patches, I'm depending on you, boy.Every time I feel like giving up, I hear his voice.Patches, Patches, Patches, Patches.I'm depending on you, son.I tried to do my best.It's up to you to do the rest.It's up to you to do the rest.It's up to you to do the rest.Patches, I'm depending on you, son.I've tried to do my best.It's up to you to do the rest.Patches, I'm depending on you, son.To pull the family through.My son, it's all I've done.Patches, I'm depending on you, son.To pulled the family through.My son, it's all I've done.My son, it's all I've done.My son, it's all I've done.I'm depending on you, son. I've tried to do my best. It's up to you to do the rest.I'm depending on you, son. For the better of you. It's always hard to do the rest.I'm depending on you, son. I've tried to do my best. It's up to you to do the rest.I'm depending on you, son. For the better of you. It's always hard to do the rest.