If the woman that lights the home up flickered and burnt out;
We will be all lost in the dark and fall without a doubt.
We will willow in the mud and we will struggle to crawl;
Troubles will seem to be giants, even if they are small.
Farewell to the lady who had been there through thick and thin;
Wipe all the dirt upon stumbling, until were shiny, bright and clean.
Who smiles at all the laughter we made when we succeed;
God, take care of her, to you we hardly plead.
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