Bits of me are missing mother,
the bits of me which you placed.
Bits of me are missing Mother ah..
I see you in my face.
Trying to remember Mother’s days
of wine and roses..Sinatra songs and beaches,
pipe curls and crinolines, days so far gone, so long ago,
replaced by bitter brew, by tears, by fears,
by little pills, I remember you.
I see you in my face, Mother.
Years gone by and still I try,
no easy thing to do, try to remember,
just a few... memories of happy days with you?
Was it when I learned to read, when you baked your pies?
Ah, Mother, mother memories ... only come in sighs.
Still, in all, it’s very true,
I spend each day missing,
missing all of you.