Life's good, friends are hard to find and now one of mine is dead.
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And things I should have said to her, I shall say to you instead.
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Mona, Mona, so much of you to love, too much of you to take care of, Mona, Mona.
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You got too big to keep and too damn old to eat.
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When you where just a football at your mama's side,
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I reckon everyone figured you for a barbecue when you died.
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And here I'm thinking about you lying underground pushing up a pine tree in my field.
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Oh, Mona, Mona, you can close your eyes. I've got a twelve-gauge surprise waiting for you.
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Since the day she passed away, everything's just the same.
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Everywhere I go, somebody mentions her name.
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Sometimes it's easiest to tell a friend a lie, they don't understand the way I feel.
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Oh, Mona, Mona, so much of you to love, too much of you to take care of, so long.
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Now she is gone and I am left alone as you can see.
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But ever since I caused her death, I do miss her company.
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Mona
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James Taylor |