He looks up from second base, Dad's up in the stands. He saw the hit, the run, the slide, there ain't no bigger fan. In the parking lot after the game, he said, Dad, I thought you had a plane to catch. He smiled and said, yeah, son, I did. But life's not the breath you take, the breathing in and out that get you through the day. Ain't what it's all about. Just mad and miss the point, trying to win the race. Life's not the breath you take, but the moments that take your breath away. Fast forward 15 years and 1,000 miles away. Boy's built a life, he's got a wife and a baby due today. He hears a voice saying, I made it, son. Says, I told you, Dad, you didn't have to come. He smiles and says, yeah, I know you did. But life's not the breath you take, the breathing in and out that get you through the day. Ain't what it's all about. You just mad and miss the point, trying to win the race. Life's not the breath you take, but the moments that take your breath away. Just like he took my breath when she was born. Just like he took my breath away when Dad took his last that morn. Life's not the breath you take, the breathing in and out that get you through the day. Ain't what it's all about. You just mad and miss the point, if you don't slow down the pace. Life's not the breath you take, but the moments that take your breath away. Life's not the breath you take, but the moments that take your breath away.