In my memory there's a picture
Loving arms I'd use to hold you
As I sat on mother's knee
No one here on earth can compare
All the things in life she gave
Now she's gone, but I remember
A pretty wreath for Mother's grave
She was fond of pretty flowers
When I'm gone, son, please remember
A pretty wreath for Mother's
She had a little row of flowers
That she used to watch him spend
She fixed them just before God called her
So they would not fade away
Next year they'll bloom again in beauty
Red and blue so bright and gay
If it's God's will, I'll take them to her
A pretty wreath for Mother's grave
She was fond of pretty flowers,
I recall she used to say,
When I'm gone, son, please remember
A pretty wreath for Mother's Day.
