Oh my soul, my head, and aching tummy
Why in the world was my mother taken from me?
Up until the last minute I'll be looking for best answer
As hard as she tried, she couldn't outrun the breast cancer

What am I supposed to do? I need at least another year
There comes times every day I need to have my mother here
I need to talk to her. It's important, it seems to be
I gotta make sure she understands how much she means to me

Who will be there to pick me up by the waistband?
Plus I promised one day I'd take her to Graceland
There's things she needs to see, for instance, I plan on building
A family of my own. She's never had grandchildren

She always helped to make my work around the kitchen painless
I want her to see me when I'm finally rich and famous
Who will I ask my stupid questions when they come up?
My first impulse is that I wanna call my mom up

But then I'm standing there holding the telephone
Wishing this headache would leave me the hell alone
The last thing I need is for pain to fill my empty spaces
And right now I feel pain in plenty of places

I need to make her laugh more. I wanna have pictures taken
She always told her friends about the music her son Richard's makin'
I need to listen to her stories and tell her my own ones
And I want her to watch when I hit lots of home runs

For a few things, I need to say sorry
And blame me instead of yourself, and as for Laurie
And Amy, I'll make sure they're okay, that they always wear a seat-belt
I promise to ease back whenever the heat's felt

I wanna go home and show off this weekend
But I can't, and it feels like I might go off the deep end
It's painful being here, but it's unfit there
My mother's gone away and not's not one bit fair