My Mam was a gentle woman
Never swore, drunk or fought
She lit a candle every day for me
In 1982 bless her heart
If I lay dying on the battlefield
Like any other dying soldier
The last words to pass my lips would be
“I want my Mam.”
My Mam was a gentle woman
Never swore, drunk or fought
She lit a candle every day for me
In 1982 bless her heart
If I lay dying on the battlefield
Like any other dying soldier
The last words to pass my lips would be
“I want my Mam.”
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