Lyrics

This Sunday morning,
I called my mom on the phone.
I said I’d be there for church soon
and I was comin’ alone.

She was wearing those blue beads.
Think I made ‘em in the 3rd grade.
I still remember my teaching sayin’
to our class that day.

Make your mamma something pretty.
Make her something fine.
Make your momma something pretty
she’ll wear for all time.

She put her arm in my arm
and I helped her down the stairs.
She don’t get around like she used to
when I was just a kid.

It was just another Sunday.
I think the kids had a game.
My mom was dressed like it was Christmas
and holdin’ the beads I made.

Make your mamma something pretty.
Make her something fine.
Make your momma something pretty,
She’ll wear for all time.

Yes, I believe
the days just slip on by.
Yes, I believe
I want to hold the hands of time… still.

Now my daughter is all grown
and I walked her down the aisle.
When she gave birth to my grandson
it sure made my momma smile.

One day he needed a gift for his mom
and I knew exactly what to say.
I told him this story about my 3rd grade teacher
and what she told the class that day.

Make your mamma something pretty.
Make her something fine.
Make your momma something pretty
she’ll wear for all time.

Make your mamma something pretty.
Make her something fine.
Make your momma something pretty
she’ll wear for all time.

------------------------------------
Standard Tuning, 1st Fret
------------------------------------

© 2019, Gary Browe, All Rights Reserved
garybrowe.com