Paroles: Slade. Beginnings. Pity The Mother.
She's left to rear a child because of war
Sadly alone
Works hard to clothe and feed her little son
Give him a home
She works all night into the early morn
Streets cold and damp
Stands at the corner near the Pig and Gun
Lit by a lamp
Break
She has to work hard to scrimp and save
Or he will go
Go to a home somewhere far away
She loves him so
Tired but she knows that it's the only way
She wanders home
Home to the child that's sleeping sound and warm
Never a moan
Slade
Beginnings
Slade
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