Mama's Arms Ronan Keating
Going back to a tender age,
[A]So full of confusion and rage,
[C]Daddy says, Boys, your Mama's g[G]one.
[D]There's a hand on your shoulder as you're throwing dirt,
[A]Someone says, Time heals the hurt.
[C]Little man, you got to keep on keepin' [G]on,
But [D]all y[A]ou [D]want [G]is [D]Ma[A]ma's [D]arms.
[D]You ride back home in a limosine,
[A]The saddest car that you've ever seen,
[C]Your brother can not look you in the [G]eye.
[D]Lightning strikes, thunder roars,
[A]An early winter in that heart of yours,
[C]But you swear you won't let them see you [G]cry
'Cause a[D]ll [A]you [D]want [G]is [D]Ma[A]ma's a[D]rms.
[D]The neighbors come and bring you pies,
[A]Endless words and futile sighs,
[C]And you run up to your room and lock the d[G]oor.
[D]And there you are in your Sunday best,
[A]The way your Mama would have had you dressed
[C]And you realize it doesn't matter a[G]nymore
'Cause [D]all [A]you [D]want [G]is [D]Ma[A]ma's [G]arms.
[D]'Round and 'round and 'round it goes.
[A]The seasons change the young boy grows
[C]To understand it's all part of some [G]plan.
[D]You used to wonder what it's all about.
[A]Now those are questions you can do without.
[C]You laugh them off and do the best you [G]can
[D]All [A]you [D]want [G]is [D]Ma[A]ma's [G]arms
[D]All [A]you [D]want [G]is [D]Ma[A]ma's [G]arms
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