Mothers - S. Carey

Their feet are cracked

As they break their back

In the sun-heat

It’s all, yes, it’s all

For your pennies

Their kids can’t go to school

In the morning

Because narcotics grow better than books

And my only hope

Is for their mothers and their daughters

To be loved

Only New York can make it right

If they want to

The consensus is rather apathy

My soul, my soul cries for them

In the morning

Because I’m guilty just the same

But eye to eye

I haven’t been

But my cries are swelling

Cause they have faces

They have faces

And my only hope

Is for their mothers and their daughters

To be loved