Ma, I Miss Your Apple Pie
Ambrose
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Ma, I miss your apple pie
Ma, I miss your stew
Ma, they're treating me alright
But they can't cook like you
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Oh, Ma, nobody's spoiling me
Like you used to do
They won't let me stay in bed until noon
At five-forty-five they play me a tune
Oh, Ma, I miss your apple pie
And by the way, I miss you too