Mom was cooking bread

She wore a dirty raggety scarf around her head

Always had her stockings low

Rolled to her feet, she just didn't know

She wore a sloppy dress

Oh no matter how she tried, she always looked a mess

Out of the pot she ate, never used a fork or a dinner plate

I was always so ashamed for my uptown friends to see her

Afraid one day when I was grown that I would be her In a college town, away from home, a new identity I found

Said I was born elite, with maids and servants at my feet

I must have been insane

I lied and said my mom died on a weekend trip to Spain

She never got out of the house, never even boarded a train

I married a guy, was livin' high

I didn't want him to know her

She had a grandson, two years old

I never even showed her I'm livin' in shame, Momma, I miss you

I know you are not to blame, Momma, I miss you Came the telegram

Mom passed away while making homemade jam

Before she died, she cried to see me by her side

She always did her best, ah! cookin', cleanin'

Always in the same old dress

Workin' hard down on her knees

Always try'n to please

Momma! Momma! Momma, do you hear me

Momma! Momma! Momma, do you hear me I'm livin' in shame, Momma, I miss you

I know you've done your best

Momma, I miss you

Won't you forgive me Momma

For all the wrong I've done

I know you have done your best

I know you have done your very best you could

But I never understood

Workin' hard on your knees

Momma, you were always, always tryin' to please