No silver spoon nor chandeliers
but plenty of beatings, plenty of tears
battered and bruised in pools of blood
as little kids frightened over her we stood
she never complained about the life she had
just now and then her eyes.. were sad
we lived with a monster n nobody knew
back in the day that's what you would do
keep it behind close doors for oh!.. the shame
fingers may point who would get the blame
whiskey he drank each and every day
I watched my dad slowly fade away
at night we'd sit around her armchair
him gone to the pub.. bag of toffies she'd share
I still can smell ..her lovely home bakes
in her well polished old stove..her wonderful cakes
devoted to us kids till the very end
"mother you were an angel".... this message I send..