Suppertime - Slim Whitman
Written by：Traditional/Mick Lloyd
When I was just a boy in days of childhood
I used to play till evening shadows came
Then winding down an old familiar pathway
I'd hear my mother call at setting sun
Come home come home it's suppertime
The shadows lengthen fast
Come home come home it's suppertime
We're going home at last
In visions now I see her standing yonder
And her familiar voice I hear once more
The banquet table's ready up in heaven
It's supper time upon that golden shore
Come home come home it's suppertime
The shadows lengthen fast
Come home come home it's suppertime
We're going home at last
Come home come home it's suppertime
We're going home at last
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