Ambrose

Ma, i miss your apple pie

Ambrose
Ma, I miss your apple pie
Ma, I miss your stew
Ma, they're treating me alright
But they can't cook like you

Oh, Ma, nobody's spoiling me
Like you used to do
They won't let me stay in bed until noon
At five-forty-five they play me a tune
Oh, Ma, I miss your apple pie
And by the way, I miss you too

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