You're the first one we feel connected too.
You're the first woman we think is cool.
Until we get under the skin of you.
Then that's another thing.

You're the only one that says, this's going to hurt me more than you.
Which makes us wonder, how you figure that?
We're the ones under attack.

Mothers, mothers, mothers.

You're the one that goes against your unwritten rules.
When we are sick with a cold in similarity to the flu.
Or ill in some other ways.
This is when cake and ice cream or sweets comes our way.

But wasn't it you, who stated we must eat food first?

Mothers, mothers, mothers.

You keep secrets better than dads.
Which you bribe us not to tell them.
But you are aware we are kids and might slip and tell them.
We don't want to be placed in the middle.

Mothers, mothers, mothers.
To many children's you are a treasure angel.