So many words, so many tunes,
so many songs to sing.
Though I can tweety -twow
and hidey -hidey -howl,
I'd rather sing a simple thing.
Everybody doesn't find enjoyment
in the melodies that are considered smart.
The only song gives me a kick
is one without a vocal trick,
you've got to sing it with your heart.
Let others sing about the moon,
as long as I can croon a tune.
Oh, Mammy,
I'll sing about you.
Though buds may bloom
and snow may fall,
As long as I can sing at all.
Oh, Mammy, I'll sing about you.
You're the one who never would deny me
the thrill of your song,
you're the one who used
to rock up by me
when evenings were long so,
let the whole world laugh at me
as long as
If I can bend my knee,
oh, Mammy,
I'll sing about you.
Let her sing.
Let him sing.
Sing about the moon.
But as long as I can prune a little dune,
Mammy, my Mammy,
I'll sing about you.
The little flowers,
the little flowers may bloom
and the snow may fall,
but as long as I,
as long as I can sing it all,
oh, Mammy, my Mammy,
I'll sing about you.
You're the one who never would deny me
the thrill of your song.
You're the one who used to
rock up by me
When evenings were long sore
Let the whole world laugh at
me, laugh at me
But as long, as long as I can bend my knee
Oh, Mammy I'll sing about you