Tell Mama to Come Home

I saw her for several years---washing our clothes,
Preparing our breakfast, cleaning my pair of shoes.
When i came home she asked me sweetly,
"How's the class of my handsome baby?"

When I woke up one sunny morning
I stared at the paintless portray on my ceiling.
Remembering her sweet and tender care
That nobody could be like her.

If only a thief had not trespassed my mama's room
She was still with me, caressing me on.
Mama was gone, she left me alone.
Making my heart cried with gloom.

If you could see her, tell her to come home
I'll never let her wash my clothes, she'll just rest and bloom.
No more she'll wipe my shoes to make them shine
Just tell her to come home and we will be fine.