Let me tell you about my mother, mate, is an angel from heaven,
but he talks to me about the newspaper and I can not take care of him,
speak to me in the cell phone house or in my work,
to tell me one more time the same story,
change my name confuse me with my father
My poor mother is losing her memory.
Look friend me also a few months ago
my dear mother every time she spoke to me she denied me a thousand times
I forgot that once that saint gave me life
and by my side he was always
the conscience shouted at me do not be ungrateful
have patience like she did for you.
And now that you're doing it, my friend.
Today I talk to her everyday, I'll see her more often,
like not loving the one who loves me without measure,
to that lady all love, all tenderness.
Right now I go and kiss her.
You do very well fill your soul with sweetness,
speak to me I speak daily with my mother,
I hope you hear me from there in your brush.
A wife is gold, a son, a son is a diamond and a mother, a mother is the land where those treasures are forged ...
And now that you're doing it, my friend.
Today I talk to her everyday, I'll see her more often,
like not loving the one who loves me without measure,
to that lady all love, all tenderness.
Right now I go and kiss her.
You do very well fill your soul with sweetness,
speak to me I speak daily with my mother,
I hope you hear me from there in your brush.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)