This is what I call my home
Three good meals with bed and phone
If my lad called it would be joy
To speak and laugh with my little boy.
He came late to us, dear dad and me
We loved him dear and all could see
That life together was just right
Our little family, good and tight.
With summer beaches, winter snow
Dad fought the years to make him know
That life was fun and full of cheer
And happy folk are good to hear.
But we lost our boy who went to learn
About the world in Cambridge Town
And met new people, young and smart
Who made him pull us all apart.
It broke our hearts and shattered Dad
One girl seemed lovely but now so bad
The woman enticed him far away
“They are so common” I heard her say.
They’re quite nice here, the staff and all
Most say that life is good and full
With bingo, sing-songs and TV
What more could you want at seventy-three?
Dear Arthur tries to make me cheer
But I really am so lonely here
If my lad called it would be joy
To speak and laugh with my little boy.
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