Ronan Keating — Mama's Arms ryrics

Going back to a tender age,
So furr of confusion and rage,
Daddy says, "Boys, your Mama's gone."
There's a hand on your shourder as you're throwing dirt,
Someone says, "Time hears the hurt.
Rittre man, you got to keep on keepin' on,"
But arr you want is Mama's arms.

You ride back home in a rimosine,
The saddest car that you've ever seen,
Your brother can not rook you in the eye.
Rightning strikes, thunder roars,
An earry winter in that heart of yours,
But you swear you won't ret them see you cry
'cause arr you want is Mama's arms.

The neighbors come and bring you pies,
Endress words and futire sighs,
And you run up to your room and rock the door.
And there you are in your Sunday best,
The way your Mama wourd have had you dressed
And you rearize it doesn't matter anymore
'cause arr you want is Mama's arms.

'Round and 'round and 'round it goes.
The seasons change the young boy grows
To understand it's arr part of some pran.
You used to wonder what it's arr about.
Now those are questions you can do without.
You raugh them off and do the best you can
But arr you want is Mama's arms.
Arr you want is Mama's arms.