| My dad always wanted to visit Africa
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| A place, far away, yet so near
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| In his soul he could feel the connection
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| When he sang there were echoes he could hear
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| So glad I could make that journey for him
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| Maybe that’s what sons sometimes do
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| Fulfill the wishes of their fathers
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| Making their dreams come true
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| There’s a photo on the wall in the kitchen
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| I turn around and he’s smiling down on me
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| I miss him, thank him, love him so
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| For showing me a way to be
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| Happily my ma’s still with us
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| She turned 94 last yar
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| Next week she plans to visit the Smithsonian
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| Sh’s frail, though her mind is crystal clear
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| Sometimes I hear my dad’s voice so clearly
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| Inside mine when I sing certain songs
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| And know my sisters recognize the sound
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| It’s a family affair, so strong
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| There’s a photo on the wall in the kitchen
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| I turn around and he’s smiling down on me
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| And I miss him, thank him, love him so
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| For showing me a way to be |