She used to point out the glass window, beckoning me to look her way, so she could tell me exactly what she thinks of the people that walked by.

"Look at how idiotically they're dress. To think they actually sell those in the mall!"

"That buggy just has to be the ugliest buggy I've ever seen in my whole entire life. I wonder where they actually got it from?"

And on and on, Mother used to tell me everthing on her mind.

And on and on, you used to tell me everything on your mind.

Mother used to tell me how her most revolting dress was a hundred times better looking than the one she saw on a mid-thirties woman walking cross the road, when the bus stopped at a traffic light. Mother used to tell how Barbie Dolls are the only dolls that weren't worth buying.

She used to tell me she hated it when her husband snores. She used to tell me pink never was, and never will be, the new black. She used to tell me how uncomfortable the public bus seats can get. She used to tell me she's never going to have another baby every again. She used to tell me nine out of ten things teachers say are bullshit.

Mother used to tell me everything will come to an end someday. But then again, that everything will somehow remain unchanged forever. She used to tell me she hoped I would remember her for as long as I live. She used to tell me she'd never wanted things to turn out this way.

She told me things were going to turn out this way. She told me she loved me.

You told me you love me.

"Look at how idiotically they're dress. To think they actually sell those in the mall! But at least they like what they're doing. At least they have got along way to go."

"That buggy just has to be the ugliest buggy I've ever seen in my whole entire life. I wonder where they actually got it from? It looks comfortable though, lucky one."

Mother used to tell me to be proud of who I am. She used to tell me to smile at everyone who smied at me. She used to tell me to be polite. Be generous, and considerate. And a whole lot of that sort.

She used to tell me, secretly, that she loved her husband's snores. She loves Barbie Dolls, and that flowers cheer her up more than anything. She used to sing me to sleep, and tell me she loved me.

Mother used to tell me she loved me. Mother used to tell me she loved me. She used to tell me she'll always love me.