Mother, You had Me I never had you I wanted you but you didn't want me So I got to tell you Goodbye , Goodbye Father, You left me but I never left you
Mother, you had me, but I never had you I wanted you, you didn't want me So I, I just got to tell you Goodbye, goodbye Father, you left me, but I never
: Mother, you had me, but I never had you I wanted you, you didn't want me So I, I just got to tell you Goodbye, goodbye Father, you left me, but I
the slaves; Oh Yea! You better scream about it ... Yea! We make her bed and raise our children And then we leave her flat for being a fat old Mother
really a minority On this sweet Emerald Isle When Stormont bans our marches They've got alot to learn Internment is no answer It's those mothers' turn
there was leftovers as well Everybody laughed when I said Thinking of the people either dying or dead Let's pick up the leftovers, send them to the starving children in Ethiopia My mother
sense of loathing and belonging Some of us are gonna be rich With the Iron Lady Lennon's gone already Let's post the boys to war Oh, mother, what are
you be my one and only friend? Why don't you be my sidekick? You be Robin and I'll try to be Batman You're Yoko Ono, I'm John Lennon Why don't you be
Mother superior jump the gun Mother superior jump the gun Mother superior jump the gun Mother superior jump the gun Mother superior jump the gun Mother
where they always are You're fucked if you do and you're fucked if you don't Five stop mother superior rain I was born the day they shot John Lennon
flies Find me in my field of grass Mother nature's son Swaying Daisies sing a lazy song beneath the sun Words and music by John Lennon and Paul McCartney
By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians All I want is the truth Just gimme some truth No short-haired, yellow-bellied, son of tricky dicky Is gonna mother
your friend and mine Who is it, who is it, who is it?) There you stand with your L.A. tan, And your New York walk and your New York talk, You're mother
you're walking through the forests where they feed the trees broken glass. john lennon and the rolling stones crooning in plastic bags. spit shine
things by nuerotic-pyschotic- pig headed politicians all i want is the truth just give me some truth no short haired-yellow bellied son of tricky dicky is gonna mother
Twenty-two inch rims to parachute out the Lex Coupe The rhythm hit 'em without the venom in 'em Pen'll scare them with the shit I pull out the John Lennon