LYRIC

Songwriters: Crisler, Brad; Eldredge, Brett

I work down at Ashbury Hills
Minimum wage, but it pays the bills
Cleanin' floors, and leadin' hymns on Sundays

Catherine Davis, room 303
Sweetest soul ya ever could meet
I bring her mornin' coffee every day

She calls me Raymond, she thinks I'm her son
She tells me "Get washed up for supper before your daddy gets home"
She goes on about the weather, how she can't believe it's already 1943
She calls me Raymond, and that's alright by me

She talks about clothes on the line in the summer air
Christmas mornin', and Thanksgiving prayer
And stories of a family that I've never had
Sometimes, I find myself wishin' I'd been there

When she calls me Raymond, she thinks I'm her son
She tells me "Get washed up for supper before your daddy gets home"
She goes on about the weather, how she can't believe it's already 1943
She calls me Raymond, and that's alright by me

There's a small white cross in Arlington
Reads "Raymond Davis '71"
Until she can see his face again
I'm gonna fill in the best I can

When she calls me Raymond, she thinks I'm her son
She tells me "Get washed up for supper before your daddy gets home"
She goes on about the weather, how she can't believe it's already 1943
She calls me Raymond, and that's alright by me

She calls me Raymond, aand that's alright by me

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