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Almost
When I the bottom stair
You braiding your gray hair
It had so long
Since I'd been

And the girls,
By the pool, would protest
The cross around necks,
But our sons overseas,
And we all know 'bout the hive and the bees.

home
With an branch and a dove
You beating on a Persian rug
With your bible and your band
Both on the TV stand

And the cruel wind
Every city father
Off the county
While the dogs eating snow
All our had sunk in a trunk
Of clothes

home,
We got on our new street,
And your grieving girls all died in sleep,
So the all went unfed,
A dream of bones all piled on a bed

And the couldn't care,
that crackhead built a boat
And said, "Please, I go,
May our honored bond
Be the kinship of the kids and the squad"