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Letters from Home

My dearest son, it's almost June

I hope this letter catches up to you, and finds you well

Its been dry, but theyre calling for rain

And every thing's the same old same in Johnson Ville

Your stubborn old daddy, aint said too much

But Im sure you know, he sends his love and she goes on

In a letter from homeI hold it up and show my buddies like

We aint scared and our boots aint muddy, and they all laugh

Like theres something funny about the way I talk

When I say, "Mama sends her best yall"

I fold it up and put it in my shirt

Pick up my gun and get back to work

And it keeps me driving me on

Waiting on letters from homeMy dearest love, its almost dawn

Ive been lying here all night long, wondering where you might be

I saw your mama and I showed her the ring

Man on the television said something, so I couldnt sleep

But Ill be all right, Im just missing you

And this is me kissing you

Xs and Os in a letter from homeI hold it up and show my buddies

Like we aint scared and our boots aint muddy, and they all laugh

'Cause she calls me 'Honey', but they take it hard

'Cause I dont read the good parts

I fold it up and put it in my shirt

Pick up my gun and get back to work

And it keeps me driving on

Waiting on letters from homeDear son, I know, I aint written

Sitting here tonight, alone in the kitchen it occurs to me

I might not have said, so Ill say it now

"Son, you make me proud"I hold it up and show my buddies

Like we aint scared and our boots aint muddy, but no one laughs

'Cause there aint nothing funny, when a soldier cries

And I just wipe me eyes

I fold it up and put it in my shirt

Pick up my gun and get back to work

And it keeps me driving me on

Waiting on letters from home

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