I always prayed for a little girl,
One who'd reach for my hand in a big, loud world.
Thought she’d look at me like I hung the moon,
Lean on her daddy the way daughters do.
But she came out strong, came out fast—
Walkin’ early, talkin’ back.
Didn’t need a push, didn’t need my hand,
She was born to stand.
And maybe tomorrow she’ll slow down,
Let me in, let me stick around.
Maybe tomorrow she’ll say, “Dad, let’s go,”
Instead of “Not today, I’ve got things of my own.”
I’m right here waitin’, but she just keeps growin’—
Too strong to borrow, too brave to follow.
And every time I ask, she says,
“Maybe tomorrow.”
I tried takin’ her fishing, takin’ her out,
But she always had another plan worked out.
Then she found lacrosse and the fire lit wide—
Put her whole damn heart on that field inside.
So I bought the gear and a brand new stick,
Every upgrade, every trick.
Drove her up and down the East Coast miles,
Chasin’ her dream, chasin’ her smile.
But maybe tomorrow she’ll slow down,
Let me in, let me hang around.
Maybe tomorrow she’ll say, “Dad, come on,”
Instead of “Not today, I’ve got practice at dawn.”
I’m right here cheerin’, but she just keeps goin’—
Too strong to borrow, too brave to follow.
And every time I ask, she says,
“Maybe tomorrow.”
I’m proud she’s tough, proud she can stand,
Proud she don’t always need my hand.
But sometimes I wish she’d look my way,
Need her dad like she did that first birthday.
So maybe tomorrow she’ll slow down,
Call me first, let me stick around.
Maybe tomorrow she’ll say, “Dad, let’s ride,”
And leave that teenage world behind.
’Til then I’m watchin’, hopin’, and knowin’
She’s too strong to borrow, too brave to follow.
But one day soon she might just say,
“Dad… today’s the day"
Until then I’ll hold on to
“Maybe tomorrow.”