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| When Mama'd go on shopping trips |
| And leave us kids at home |
| She'd also leave a list of things |
| That needed to be done. |
| We'd watch her as she went away |
| To catch the street car into town |
| Then we'd all get very busy |
| To see how fast we could get done. |
| Because we knew when she returned |
| She'd bring with her a special treat |
| And we'd line up with expectation |
| Knowing it was something good to eat. |
| But sometimes we would get to playing |
| And forget the list of tasks |
| Until someone'd suddenly remember |
| That Mama'd soon be coming back. |
| Then we'd begin to scurry 'round |
| To do the chores assigned to us |
| Because we knew when Mama came |
| There would be an awful fuss. |
| Someone would look down the street |
| And suddenly begin to shout, |
| "Hey, you guys, Mama's comin' |
| Now she's going to find us out." |
| I think Mama always knew |
| As she returned at end of day |
| Whether we'd been faithful stewards |
| Or wasted time in idle play. |
| I'm sure it must have grieved her, too |
| That we'd been careless of our time |
| And instead of the treat she'd brought |
| There'd be punishment to suit the crime. |
| My friend, the Saviour's coming back |
| Just as sure as Mama came |
| Will He find you true and faithful |
| Or will you hang your head in shame? |
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