| On our corner there’s this nice man
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| His name is Mark, he’s always smiling
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| He’s got this mom who comes on Wednesdays
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| In the evening with soup so steaming
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| He shares his house with his friend Martin
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| They’re not brothers, they’re not cousins
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| My little girl wonders all about these men
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| I take hold of her hand and I begin
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| Home is where the heart is
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| No matter how the heart lives
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| Inside your heart where love is
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| That’s where you’ve got to make yourself at home
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| Through the yard live Deb and Trisha
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| With their drills and ladders and their room addition
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| My kid yells over are you having a baby
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| They wink and smile and say someday maybe
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| Funny how they don’t let the daddies in
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| Don’t you let them in
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| My little girls wonders 'bout the house with no men
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| I take hold of her hand and I begin
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| Home is where the heart is
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| No matter how the heart lives
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| Inside your heart where love is
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| That’s where you’ve got to make yourself at home
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| 'Round the corner here come Martin
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| He’s alone now, he tries smiling
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| He roams around his well stocked kitchen
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| He knows that fate will soon be coming
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| My little girl wonders where he will live
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| I take hold of her hand and I begin
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| Home is where the heart is
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| No matter how the heart lives
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| Inside your heart where love is
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| That’s where you’ve got to make yourself at home
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| Martin sits and waits with his window open
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| His house is empty, his heart is broken
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| We bring him toys and water colors
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| He loves to hear my little baby’s stories
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| She’s the gift I share, she’s his companion
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| She’s the string on the like, she guides him into the wind
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| My little girl wonders who will care for him
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| We take hold of his hand, we begin
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| Let’s begin now…
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| Home is where the heart is
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| No matter how the heart lives
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| Inside your heart where love is
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| That’s where you’ve got to make yourself at home |