| All my soul, my head aching tummy
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| Why in world was my mother taken from me
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| Up until the last minute Ive been looking for the answer
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| Hard as tried she couldnt out run the breast cancer
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| What am I supposed to do, I need at least another year,
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| There comes time everyday I need to have my mother hear
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| I need to talk to her it’s important,
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| It seems to be
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| I got to make her understand
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| Who will be there to pick me up by the waste been
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| Plus one day I promised I would take her to grace land
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| There is things she needs to see
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| For instance I planned on building a family of my own
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| She never had grandchildren
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| She always helped to make my work in the kitchen painless
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| I want her to see when I am finally rich and famous
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| Who will I ask my stupid questions when they come up
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| My first impulse is I want to call my mum up
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| But then I am left standing there
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| Holding the telephone wishing this head ach would leave me the hell alone
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| The last thing I need now is for pain to fill my empty spaces
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| Right now I fell pain in plenty of places
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| I need to make her laugh more
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| I want to have pictures taken
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| She always telling her friend about the records her son Richard’s making
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| I need to listen to her stories and tell her my own ones
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| I want her to watch when I hit lots of home runs
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| For there are a few things I need to say sorry for
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| Blame me instead of your-self
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| As for Lorry and Amy
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| Ill make sure there ok
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| And that they always where there seat belt
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| I promise to ease back when ever the heats felt
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| I want to go home and show off this weekend
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| But I can’t and it fells like I might go off the deep end
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| Its painful being here
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| But it’s unfit there
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| My mothers gone away and it’s not one bit fair |