Mother’s who care are born with the flare for words,
To flatter and wear with a great pair of patent leather shoes.
Tempting the man in their life to kiss and play
Maybe all day.
Mother’s can tick and tack with a knack walking the Seattle 99 trail
With a snack of baked goods in their backpack.
Mmm, mmm, yum,
Give me some more,
Mother’s care because of the sons and daughters they birthed here,
Stare and glance at the chance they take with love on a plate.
Palate, okay embrace, chase and never waste it,