Now I lay you down to sleep
Across the floor my feet do creep
A load of dishes, a load of wash
In a vain attempt to quash
the growing piles created by three.
Oh damn, what is that I see?
A sock I missed,a fork you stashed
Ah hell more things that need to be washed
It's a good thing I love each and every one
Because truly my work is never done.
A cry from a darkened room I hear
a sigh, a moan, a cough I fear.
my little boy is still sick you see
so I bring him over close to me
the dishes can wait as can the clothes
for these are the moment a mother knows
her children need her to hold them tight
and love them through day and night.