Mama, you're on my mind
|
You're a stitch inside my coat
|
Play on the world's grand design
|
I think you know
|
I think you're sure that you know that
|
Butterflies don't get old
|
|
And I don't get so young anymore
|
What a crime
|
The big ideas
|
And lost ideals, it's a show
|
I must appear in control
|
|
Mama
|
The show at all
|
They're burning books outside of
|
What was it that you said?
|
to the walls
|
Oh, Let the spirit gather up and
|
Set us a flame for
|
|
Year to year, there's no one here but us crooks
|
What a crime
|
Are ears to the ground and the fingers on the pulse of a pain
|
Oh it's worse than change.
|
|
Mama
|
What is it that they want?
|
Mama
|
Mama
|
Oh what do they want with us
|
And all of our abuse of the truth
|
Oh whats the use to protest
|
|
Mama, is only you
|
You're a dancer from the mirrors of
|
Lie and with restraint
|
This quiet warmth
|
I've got my faith restored by the sway of the trees
|
That sway in time to one last rhyme of a curse
|
But what it's worth
|
I count you out and still you count me in
|
To answer your final bell
|
Mama
|
what do they care about us
|
Mama
|
Mama
|
They knock and knock
|
But no one's homes
|
Mama
|
Mama
|
We're bored and we're not alone
|
|
-----------------
|
Mama
|
| Smashing Pumpkins |
