The Kingston Trio
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When I was a little boy, my mother said to me,
"Watch the new born roses grow.
It's a pretty sight to see.
You, my son, shall blossom as the flower below.
I will be your raindrops.
You will be my rose.
Listen while I tell you of the beauty in the sky.
There's a home for angels on the clouds so high.
I must be an angel.
In heaven I shall stay.
If you ever need me, I'll hear each word you say."
Now her raindrops fall no more.
Who will take her place?
Will I live to blossom full or wither into space?
Many times I wonder on the clouds above
Is it my dear mother who showers me with love?
When I was a little boy.