pity the mother

she's left to rear a child because of war

sadly alone

works hard to clothe and feed her little son

give him a home

she works all night into the early morn

streets cold and damp

stands at the corner near the pig and gun

lit by a lamp

she has to work hard to scrimp and save

or he will go

go to a home somewhere far away

she loves him so

tired but she knows that it's the only way

she wanders home

home to the child that's sleeping sound and warm

never a moan