| Oh Mom, the dreams are not so bad
|
| It’s just that there’s so much to do
|
| And I’m tired of sleeping
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| Oh Mom, the old man is telling me something
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| His eyes are wide and his mouth is thin
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| And I just can’t hear what he’s saying
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| Oh Mom, I wonder when I’ll be waking
|
| It’s just that there’s so much to do
|
| And I’m tired of sleeping
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| Oh Mom, the kids are playing in pennies
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| They’re up to their knees in money
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| And the dirt of the churchyard steps
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| Oh Mom, that man he ripped out his lining
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| He tore out a piece of his body
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| To show us his «clean quilted heart»
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| Oh Mom, I wonder when I’ll be waking
|
| It’s just that there’s so much to do
|
| And I’m tired of sleeping
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| Oh Mom, the bird on the string is hanging
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| Her bones are twisting and dancing
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| She’s fighting for her small life
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| Oh Mom, I wonder when I’ll be waking
|
| It’s just that there’s so much to do
|
| And I’m tired of sleeping
|
| Oh Mom, I wonder when I’ll be waking
|
| It’s just that there’s so much to do
|
| And I’m tired of sleeping |