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Lyrics: Mm… Sunday sun through the windowpane Slow drum, soft feet on the floor We still set six chairs Even when one belongs to the Lord Morning breaks on borrowed strength Kettle sings like it knows my name School shoes by the doorway Faith stitched up in every seam I tie their hair, I press their shirts Say your prayers, don’t rush the day Your photo watches from the wall Like you never really went away They ask me why I count the plates Why my hands always hesitate I say love doesn’t learn to leave It just learns how to wait So leave an extra plate on the table Let the children see it too For the love that fed us yesterday And the hands that used to bless this food Leave an extra plate on the table Every Sunday, same old prayer If heaven’s listening through the ceiling She knows she still got a place right here Highlife guitar in the radio Dancing round the weight of years You taught me joy is stubborn It survives on borrowed tears I work the fields, I work the night Come home smelling like the rain But your laughter in the hallway Still calls me by my name When the world says “man, be strong” I hear your voice say “just be kind” So I carry both the parents In this one tired spine So leave an extra plate on the table Don’t clear it away too fast Some spirits eat in memories Some love refuses past Leave an extra plate on the table Let the room stay incomplete Because absence is a presence That still knows when it’s time to eat Who holds the house when the roof is thin? God does! God does! Who rocks the child when the night comes in? God does! God does! Who fills the space between the chairs? Love does! Love does! Who sets the plate for the answered prayer? We do! We do! Children grown like morning corn Tall from what they never saw But they carry you in their walk In how they rise, in how they fall One day they’ll set another plate For someone they still can’t forget And they’ll know why I never moved yours Not even once… not yet Leave an extra plate on the table Let the angels pull a chair This house was built on broken vows That turned into a prayer Leave an extra plate on the table Until time learns mercy’s name Because love don’t die, it just changes rooms And comes back every Sunday the same Amen in the cooking smoke Amen in the empty seat If heaven ever gets hungry It knows where we still eat Mm… Leave it there.