(Rehearsal Fragment) My yiddishe momme I need her more then ever now My yiddishe momme I long to kiss her wrinkled brow I long to hold her hands as in days gone by And ask her to forgive me for Things I did to make her cry How few were her treasures She never cared for fashion's styles Her jewels and her pleasures She found them in her baby's smiles Oh I know what I owe And I am today To that dear little lady so old and gray To that dear little yiddishe momme Mother of mine
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