Mommas are the little ones,
who carry us for most a year,
Prop us up till we are strong,
forgive us for the hurt and fears,
so look after Mum,
She is the one so dear...
Don Johnson
been spending 3 days a week with my 90 year old Mum...
War, war, war!
Time to even the score!
Bombs, bombs, bombs
Mothers help us kill your sons.
It’s true the leaders
Never have to run
Well they run for fun.
But your sons
Must Run For Their Life!
In our war game of strife.
Hey momma-
Don’t complain your son, a boy your child
Sent to war off in distant wild
A great experience
It shall be!
His death is not in vain
But to our country tis a vi!
Momma knows her girl ain't crazy,
Still hearing those wedding vows,
It never ceases to amaze me,
What she's going through even now,
While cryingly she goes on...sharing mommas loving hand,
She's cried a month of Sundays,
Felt the slamming door,
Hoping maybe someday,
Love is evermore,
In the rising and setting suns...of having a good man,
She's been tried by the Devil,
Felt the upper hand,
Been so disheveled,
Trying to understand,
Now her life must go on...without that wedding band,
She's cried a month of Sundays,
For the man she knew before,
Hoping maybe some way,
Love is evermore,
Now her life must go on making new plans.
She's been walked on a bit,
And still has those crying fits,
O-O-O-O-Oh! Lord!
Even I can read her lips,
Now an ex-wife must be strong, trying to understand,
How her life must go on, without that wedding band,
She has mommas loving hand.
She's been walked on a bit,
And still has those crying fits,
O-O-O-O-Oh! Lord!
Even I can read her lips!
How an ex-wife must be strong, trying to understand,
How her life must go on, without that wedding band,
She has mommas loving hand.