Brett Eldredge

Raymond
I work down at Ashbury HillMinimum wage, but it pays the billsCleanin' floors and leadin' hymns on SundayCatherine Davis, room 3-0-3Sweetest soul you ever could meetI bring her morning coffee every dayShe calls me RaymondShe thinks I'm her sonTells me get washed up for supper'Fore your daddy gets homeShe goes on about the weatherHow she can't believe it's already 1943She calls me RaymondAnd that's alright by meShe talks about the clothes on the line in summer airChristmas morning and Thanksgiving prayerAnd stories of a family that I never hadWell sometimes I find myself wishin' I'd been thereWhen she calls me RaymondShe thinks I'm her sonTells me get washed up for supper'Fore your daddy gets homeLetras de cancionesShe goes on about the weatherHow she can't believe it's already 1943She calls me RaymondAnd that's alright by meThere's a small white cross in ArlingtonReads Raymond Davis, '71Until she can see his face againI'm gonna fill in the best I canWhen she calls me RaymondShe thinks I'm her sonTells me get washed up for supper'Fore your daddy gets homeShe goes on about the weatherHow she can't believe it's already 1943She calls me RaymondAnd that's alright by meShe calls me RaymondAnd that's alright by me From Letras Mania