Mother

I was a handful when I was in grade school.
The bad grades and fighting musta drove her insane.
But like birds of a feather, we weathered together.
She spoke her piece, but never really complained.

She was a beautiful woman,
And she always had somethin'.
She knew I was comin' before I came home.
And she always loved me,
And was so proud of me,
And when I felt lonely,
I was never alone.

Kids were her passion, and were always in fashion.
She had my sister, then me,
But secretly wanted more.
And some fifteen years later, nothing was greater,
She went into labor, and now she has four.

We had our rough times, and we had our tough times,
We had our bad times, but we had good days, too.
And she was the reason love was always in season.
For, there was no teasin' when she said, "I love you."

So here's to my mother.
I hope she know I love her;
For, there is no other that mothers like she.
And when I'm a father, I hope she will bother
To make me the father that I'd like to be.

She's a beautiful woman,
And shes always had somethin'.
She knows when I'm comin' before I come home.
And she always loved me,
And was so proud of me,
And when I felt lonely,
I was never alone.

When I felt lonely, I was never alone.