Of all the things that mother baked
There was nothing better than her pies and cakes.
When evening came and shadows fall,
We lit the lamp, then one and all
We'd gather around, each takes a plate
She'd give each child some pie or cake.

Then time would come to go to bed,
She would check each child,
Their hands, their heads,
Til she was sure each child was clean
Then it was off to bed to sleep and dream.

There in the dark with the lights all out,
And your sleepless mind seems to jump about,
What would come right back before your eyes,
Was mother's love with her cake and pies.