The postman's arrived and he's brought me a letter A handwriting shaky it's merely a scrawl But still I can find no penmanship better It's from an old lady who's feeble and small It tells me that our awful dog, always hardy Has lately been hurt in some terrible fight I know that to you this may not be worth saying But to me any news from home is right From home is right One day I'll return home Going back while Mother's still there "Are you coming home this year? " Mother writes It tells of the birds that nest in the attic Through the hole in the roof where the rain's coming from The house where we live is no Kensington Palace It hasn't been painted since Father's been gone Father's been gone One day I'll return home Going back while Mother's still there "Are you coming home this year? " Mother writes "The weather's been awful this year," Mother writes "Are you coming home this year? " Mother writes