Iain MacKintosh used to sing a fine song called "My Old Man" . I don't recall much of it but it started with

I miss the old man tonight,
I can almost see his smile
With his old hat and his big cigar,
He could look you in the eye and sell you a car.

It goes on to

He never talked about the war,
In France when he was 18
The day they put him in a trench,
Was the day he learned sense and never again used violence.

And ends with


For the first time since he died
Late last night I cried,
I'd wondered when I was going to do that,
For my old man.

It really is a fabulous sensitive song.
The last verse always led to lots of reflection and not a few sniffles.