Borrow a cup of tea from your mother.
She will give you honey and cream too.
I surely tell you there is no other,
Who will love you as much or nearly as true.
A mother once loved but left for the war.
The battle was long and the General a bore.
She almost lost all her love except none.
So strong in the war, the battle she won.
She fell in the victory march on a mine.
So many pieces there were like a dime.
Yet she is remembered in all of her glory,
And so you have heard, another, mother story.
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