My yiddische momme
I miss her more then ever now
My yiddische momme
I long to kiss her wrinkled brow

I long to hold her hand once more as I did in days gone by
And I beg her to forgive me for things I did to make her cry
How few were her pleasures, she never cared for fashion's styles
Her jewels and her treasures, she found them in her baby's smiles
For I know that I owe what I am today
To that dear little lady so old and so grey
To that wonderful yiddisch momme
Mother of mine