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