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Songtekst
Of things I should be thankful for I've had a goodly share And as I sit here in the comfort Of a cosy chair My fancy takes me to a humble eastside tenement Three flights up in the rear To where my childhood days were spent It wasn't much like paradise But amidst the dirt and all There sat the sweetest angel One that I fondly call My Yiddishe mamma, I need her more than ever now My Yiddishe mamma, I long to kiss that wrinkled brow I long to hold her hand once more, as in days gone by And ask her, ask her To forgive me for things I did that made her cry How few were her pleasures She didn't care for fashion styles Her jewels and her treasures She found them in her babies smiles Yet I know that I owe What I am today To that dear little lady So old, and so grey To that wonderful Yiddishe mamma Mamma, Mamma...
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