By Original Work
All %s and shine,
We swing the pick in the prison yard,
With home someday in our hearts,
And till the weekend comes.
Through fields of green we roam,
Where voices softly call,
The heart finds a home,
And warm shines through all.
Let hope fill the air,
And peace fill our souls,
For moments beyond compare,
And memories that never grow old.
So swing the pick and play, friends,
With home someday filling each day,
Till dreams guide us home again,
And we find our home for aye.
CC0 License
This song is released under CC0 (Public Domain Dedication). You may use it for any purpose, including commercially.