MOTHER'S ARMS
I wish I was a child again,
Nestled in my mother's
arms.
I long to hear "It'll be all right,"
As she gently strokes
my hair.
'Cause grownup problems can seem too tough.
Hard to face
them on my own.
I wish I was a child again,
Nestled in my mother's
arms.
Nestled in my mother's
arms.
I long to hear "It'll be all right,"
As she gently strokes
my hair.
'Cause grownup problems can seem too tough.
Hard to face
them on my own.
I wish I was a child again,
Nestled in my mother's
arms.