| If I should close my eyes, that my soul can see,
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| And there's a place at the table that you saved for me.
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| So many thousand miles over land and sea,
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| I hope to dare, that you hear my prayer,
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| And somehow I'll be there.
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| It's but a concrete floor where my head will lay,
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| And though the walls of this prison are as cold as clay.
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| But there's a shaft of light where I count my days,
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| So don't despair of the empty chair,
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| And somehow I'll be there.
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| Some days I'm strong, some days I'm weak,
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| And days I'm so broken I can barely speak,
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| There’s a place in my head where my thoughts still roam,
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| Where somehow I've come home.
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| And when the Winter comes and the trees lie bare,
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| And you just stare out the window in the darkness there.
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| Well I was always late for every meal you'll swear,
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| But keep my place and the empty chair,
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| And somehow I'll be there,
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| And somehow I'll be there. |