Monday, December 31, 2012

Mommy by Agnaldo Timoteo

She is the owner of everything,
she is the queen of the home
She's worth more to me
Than the sky, the land and the sea

She is the most beautiful word that one day the poet wrote
She is the treasure that the poor received from the hands of The Lord

Mommy, Mommy, Mommy
You're the reason of my days
You are made of love and hope

Ai, ai, ai Mommy
I grew up, I lost my way
I Get back to you and feel like a child

Mommy, Mommy, Mommy
I remember the slipper in hand
The apron all dirty with eggs
If I could I would, one more time, Mommy,
Start it all all over again

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