My mother loves me, I know it well.
She never says it, she doesn't know how, she'll never hug me, she'll never kiss me.
I've always been too fat, I've always been too foolish.
But when my seizure's over and I'm lying helpless on the floor, my head's in her lap and her tears bathe my face.
As I come back to myself, all I want is her comfort.
As I come back to myself her comfort disappears and her strength returns.
My mother loves me, I know it well.
She always shows it, the only way she knows how.