Of things I should be thankful for I've had a goodly share; And as I sit here in the comfort, Of my cozy chair; My fancy takes me to a humble, East-side tenement; Three flights up in the rear to where my childhood days were spent.
It wasn't much like paradise But mid the dirt and all; There sat the sweetest angel One that I fondly call
My Yiddishe mama I need her more than ever now My Yiddishe mama I'd like to kiss that wrinkled brow
I long to hold her hands once more As in days gone by And ask her to forgive me For things i did to make her cry;
How few were her pleasures! She never cared for fashion styles; Her jewels and treasures She found them in her babies' smiles;
Oh I know what I owe what I am To that dear little lady So old and grey, To that Yiddishe mama