WELCOME HOME
Amanda McBroom
I AM STANDING ON THE SHORE LINE,
WATCHING THE MORNING TIDE.
THERE’S A SHIP OUT ON THE OCEAN
WITH HER SAILS ALL WHITE AND WIDE.
SHE IS FLOATING LIKE A FEATHER
ON THE AMBER WAVES OF DAWN
WHEN SOMEONE CLOSE BESIDE ME SAYS,
“OH, LOOK. SHE’S GONE.”
SHE’S GONE. SHE’S GONE.
AND I AM LEFT ALONE.
WHEN SOMEONE CLOSE BESIDE ME SAYS,
“OH, LOOK. SHE’S GONE.”
JUST BECAUSE I CANNOT SEE HER
AS SHE SAILS UPON HER WAY
SHE’S JUST AS FINE, SHE’S JUST AS FAIR
AS SHE WAS JUST YESTERDAY.
THE FAULT IS IN MY VISION.
IT IS IN MY HEART ALONE.
ON THE OTHER SIDE GLAD VOICES CRY,
“HERE SHE COMES. WELCOME HOME.
“COME HOME. COME HOME.
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN GONE?”
ON THE OTHER SIDE,GLAD VOICES CRY,
“HERE SHE COMES. WELCOME HOME.”
“COME HOME. COME HOME.
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN GONE?”
ON THE OTHER SIDE GLAD VOICES CRY,
“HERE SHE COMES. WELCOME HOME.”
