| Henry loves the ballpark
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| But lately he ain’t coming round
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| Things have been so different
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| Since his youngest boy left town
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| Fighting seem so harmless
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| Families sometimes disagree
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| It’s hard to know the reason
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| Why he finally chose to leave
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| But he’s gone away, his father waits
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| And he is watching and he is hoping
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| Though his eyes are weary, his arms are still open
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| And his prayer so softly spoken
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| Please come home
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| Now Henry sits and wonders
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| In that front porch rocking chair
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| Does his boy remember
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| All the love the family shared
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| And is he cold out there alone?
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| And he is watching and he is hoping
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| Though his eyes are weary, his arms are still open
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| And his prayer so softly spoken
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| Please come home
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| To your seat at the table
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| To your father who weeps
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| Every night in sleepless dreams
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| He longs to see his face in younger skin
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| Running down the driveway again
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| And he is watching and he is hoping
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| Though his eyes are weary, his arms are still open
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| And his prayer so softly spoken
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| Please come home |