Owen James - Father's hand

Holding the world a little more steady.
Every time I fell, every time I ran,
The ground came up soft 'cause he made it ready.
I couldn't see it then, but now I understand,
All of my life there was my father's hand.
Now his hands are slower and his hair's gone white,
And I hold his arm steady when we walk at night.
That ladder that he built me, I'm building it again,