Raymond

Raymond

Brett Eldredge

I work down at Ashbury Hill
Minimum wage, but it pays the bills
Cleanin' floors and leadin' hymns on Sunday
Catherine Davis, room 3-0-3
Sweetest soul you ever could meet
I bring her morning coffee every day

She calls me Raymond
She thinks I'm her son
Tells me get washed up for supper
'Fore 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 the clothes on the line in summer air
Christmas morning and Thanksgiving prayer
And stories of a family, that I never had
Well sometimes I find myself wishin' I'd been there

When she calls me Raymond
She thinks I'm her son
Tells me get washed up for supper
'Fore 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
Tells me get washed up for supper
'Fore 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
And that's alright by me

Written by TRUMAN BRADLEY CRISLER, BRETT RYAN ELDRIDGE
Published by BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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