Daddy, Come Home

Daddy, come home
mommy cries all of the time,
she wishes you were here
you're always on her mind.

Daddy, come home
we don't want you in the war,
I'm too young to know what death's about
and my eyes are always sore.

Daddy, come home
can't you hear my plea?
I want you to come home
and be with mommy and me.

Daddy, come home
what's in that wooden crate?
We'd be happier with you here
we don't want death, to be your fate.

Daddy, come home
everybody's dressed in black,
surrounding a gravestone under the sun
will you ever be coming back?

She wishes you were here
mommy cries all of the time,
Daddy, come home
you're always on her mind.

Copyright Cynthia Jones
July.30/2009