Lyrics:

My little boy kneelin' by his bed
Hands folded, sayin' his prayers
Talkin' to God, man to man:
He don't know that I'm there
That's a picture I'd like to frame
That's a picture only God can paint
That's the kind of beauty no camera can capture:
That's a picture
My daughter sittin' in her high chair
Ravioli all over her face
I stand an' stare at her innocence:
I don't see the mess that she made
That's a picture I'd like to frame
That's a picture only God can paint
That's the kind of beauty no camera can capture:
Yeah, that's a picture
I've seen snapshots of sunsets that take everyone's breath
An postcards of Paris in the spring
No paper or canvass compares what happens
To my heart in moments like these
My perfect angel, her hair all up
Blastin' at her radio
She'd a-died if she knew I saw her
Dancin' while she folded the clothes

That's a picture I'd like to frame
That's a picture only God can paint
That's the kind of beauty no camera can capture:
Yeah, that's a picture
Oh, what a picture
That's a picture