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
No comments:
Post a Comment