My yiddishe momme 

Of things I should be thankful for I've had a goodly share 
And as I sit here in [bad word] of my cosy chair 
My fancy takes me to a humble eastside tenement 
three flights up in the rear to where my childhood days were spent 
It wasn't much like Paradise but 'mid the dirt and all 
There sat the sweetest angel, one that I fondly call 

My yiddishe momme I need her more then ever now 
My yiddishe momme I'd like to kiss that wrinkled brow 
I long to hold her hands once more as in days gone by 
and ask her to forgive me for things I did that made her cry 
How few were her pleasures, she never cared for fashion's styles 
Her jewels and treasures she found them in her baby's smiles 
oh I know that I owe what I am today 
to that dear little lady so old and gray 
to that wonderful yiddishe momme of mine 

My yiddishe momme I need her more then ever now 
My yiddishe momme I'd like to kiss that wrinkled brow 
I long to hold her hands once more as in days gone by 
and ask her to forgive me for things I did that made her cry 
How few were her pleasures, she never cared for fashion's styles 
Her jewels and treasures she found them in her baby's smiles 
oh I know that I owe what I am today 
to that dear little lady so old and gray 
to that wonderful yiddishe momme of mine