As old as I may be, there's only one thing I want. I need.
I want my mother's arms wrapped around me,
squeezing me tight, telling me that everything will be okay.
I'll hear her heart pounding through her chest,
while I feel the warmth of her skin against my cheek.
As tears roll down my face, I want her to wipe them away.
She'll stroke my hair, tilt my head back and look me in the eyes.
I'll open up to her and she'll just pull me closer.
She'll tell me she loves me.
She'll be the one that gets me through the night.