| Mother’s sick. |
| She’s gone mad
|
| A daughter’s tricked, she’s been had
|
| Life just don’t always fold up neat
|
| Sadness will come in different sheets
|
| As blue eyes state, on your father’s face
|
| Hides some grace
|
| All those years your youth has stole
|
| How your wife and your body
|
| Has taken toll, toll, toll
|
| Grab your mother, bring her ears
|
| Tell her things she’ll never hear
|
| Like how her bark, it has come
|
| Before her bite, bite, bite
|
| Mother’s sick. |
| She’s gone mad
|
| A daughter’s tricked, she’s been had
|
| Life just don’t always fold up neat
|
| Sadness will come in different sheets
|
| As blue eyes state, on your father’s face
|
| Hides some grace
|
| All those years your youth has stole
|
| How your wife and your body
|
| Has taken toll, toll, toll
|
| Grab your mother, bring her ears
|
| Tell her things she’ll never hear
|
| Like how her bark, it has calmed
|
| Before her bite, bite, bite
|
| We’re beat, beat, beat asleep on feet
|
| Goodnight, night, night let’s calm this fight |