Mama was cookin' bread
|
She wore a dirty raggedy scarf around her head
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Always had her stockings low
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Rolled to her feet just didn't know
|
She wore a sloppy dress
|
Oh no matter how she tried she always looked a mess
|
Out of the pot she ate
|
Never used a fork or a dinner plate
|
I was always so afraid that
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The uptown friends would see her
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Afraid one day when I was grown
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That I would be her
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In college town away from here
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A new identity I found
|
That I was born elite
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With maids and servants at my feet
|
I must have been insane
|
I lied and said mama died on a weekend trip to Spain
|
She never got out of the house
|
Never even boarded a train
|
Married a guy, was living high
|
|
I didn't want him to know her
|
she had a grandson two years old
|
That I never even showed her
|
I'm living in shame
|
Mama, I miss you
|
I know you're not to blame
|
Mama, I miss you
|
|
Got a telegram
|
Mama passed away while making home made jam
|
before she died she cried to see me by her side
|
She always did her best
|
Ah cooked and cleaned and always in the same old dress
|
Working hard, down on her knees
|
Always trying to please
|
Mama, mama, mama can you hear me
|
Mama, mama, mama can you hear me
|
I'm living in shame
|
Mama, I miss you
|
I know you've done your best
|
Mama, I miss you
|
Won't you forgive me mama
|
For all the wrong I've done
|
I know you've done your best
|
Oh I know you've done the very best you could
|
Mama I thought you understood
|
Working hard, down on your knees
|
|
-----------------
|
I'm Living In Shame
|
| Diana Ross & The Supremes |
