A Small Boy Waits In The Darkening Room

Peering Out Into The Gathering Gloom

Nose Pressed Up Against The Pane

Staring Out At The Driving Rain

He's Five Years Old, His Father's Gone

Has He Been Bad?

Done Something Wrong?

He Doesn't Like It On His Own

When Id Daddy Coming Home?



When Will My Daddy Come Back To Me

He's Sailing Out On The Seven Seas

The Whole World Is His Port Of Call

A Box Of Postcards Says It All

Out On The Radio, I Could Be Wrong

I Thought They Played His Favorite Song

It Said Hold On Son It Won't Be Long

I Don't Know Where That's Coming From



And Who Will Tuck Me In Tonight

Rub Your Head Turn Out The Light

If You Listen To The Wind Outside

You Just Might Hear Your Daddy Cry

Hear Your Daddy Cry