My Mothers Voice

I rode by that old home place just yesterday And noticed that the grass and weeds were tall I stopped and sat upon the wooden door steps And I thought I heard my mama give me a call She said supper’s on the table, come on in son Wash your hands and make sure that they’re clean But when I turned my head toward her voice That sweet mother of mine could not be seen The wind blew through the cracks in the woodwork As I stepped inside the dark and drafty hall I felt my mama’s presence close beside me As I ran my fingers gently along the wall Twenty years I lived behind this front door Before I finally left for another life I left my mama and my papa to themselves As I moved to the big city with my wife Several years ago we buried papa And last year mama laid right next door But when I stepped inside the drafty hallway I can still feel their memories for ever more Slowly I make my way back to the city To my wife’s open arms that feel so fine But every now and again I visit the home place Just to hear my mama’s voice one more time She say’s supper’s on the table, come on in son Wash your hands and make sure that they’re clean But when I turned my head toward her voice That sweet mother of mine cannot be seen