My Yiddish Momme

Of things I should be thankful for I've had a goodly share And as I sit here in the comfort of my 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 'mid the dirt and all There sat the sweetest angel, one that I fondly call My yiddishe momme I need her more then ever now My yiddishe momme 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 that made her cry How few were her pleasures, she never cared for fashion's styles Her jewels and treasures she found them in her baby's smiles Oh I know that I owe what I am today To that dear little lady so old and gray To that wonderful yiddishe momme of mine My yiddishe momme I need her more then ever now My yiddishe momme 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 that made her cry How few were her pleasures, she never cared for fashion's styles Her jewels and treasures she found them in her baby's smiles Oh I know that I owe what I am today To that dear little lady so old and gray To that wonderful yiddishe momme of mine