If the mother goes to sleep with you Will you run and tell Geraldo If the mother bears your children without tears Without the usual costs of labor If the mother goes to bed with you Will you run and tell the neighbors Will you hide behind that get up that you wear Or will you take the first ear that comes into contact with your blade Like Peter did on the hill at dawn? Will you call her a freak? Will you call them freaks? If the mother goes to bed with you Will you run and tell the papers How she picked you from a lineup in downtown Philadelphia With a cigarette hangin' out of your mouth And Henry Miller in your back pocket You little fucker If the mother goes to bed with you In the bowels of the cathedral Will you render her asunder with what she really needs Or will you crash that beautiful silence With some talk about finding yourself in your mother's arms? Will you call her a freak Will you call them freaks Will you call them gods Will you call them freaks You know your sperm is weak You never looked, so high To ever find her so low You did not have to go, that far To show her you were holy Now you know they're gonna come for you And drag your silly name into the mud If the mother bears your children without tears And without the usual cost of labor Labor, labor, laborTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
