Working In Your Dungarees

You always did the best you could,
To make your children grow up good.
You always worked to make ends meet,
To give your children food to eat.

For I saw you down on your knees,
Working in your dungarees.
Working hard just to get us by,
But never once did I see you cry.

You always sang a happy song,
You tried to teach me right from wrong.
But somewhere, Mom, I went astray,
And broke your heart each Mother's Day.

You always gave me all you had,
And in return I made you sad.
I guess I didn't understand,
Just what it took to be a man.

For I forgot to be your son,
And was blind to the damage done.
But, Ma, you taught me right from wrong,
And now I sing a different song.

I sing a song of happiness,
I sing a song of joy and bliss.
I sing when I am on my knees,
Working in my dungarees.

I sing a song of peace and love,
A song to you and God above.
And I'm so proud I can finally say,
"I love you, Ma, Happy Mother's Day."