Gonna give away, gonna give away,
Gonna give away I say, all of my possessions.
Gonna cut off all my hair,
Buy clean underwear
And take the last train home.
‘Cause it’s Mother’s Day, yes it’s Mother’s Day,
Lord it’s Mother’s Day and I offer my confession.
I’m a wretched soul,
With a belly hole,
And I’m hopin’ just to find my way
Back home.
Mary in the mornin’ brought me
Coffee and a little consolation.
She said, “Son you’ll always be the one,
Can brighten up the corner where you are.
But the hour is getting late
And your ma’s gone sixty-eight,
And she’s losing hope of tracking
Down your star.”
Any other day, any other day,
Any other day I’d be pissin’ on the sidewalk.
I’d be cursin’ down the name of God,
In a language that I never stopped to learn.
But it’s Mother’s Day, yes it’s Mother’s Day,
Lord it’s Mother’s Day and I’m rollin’ back a big rock.
Well bless my soul I’m a jelly roll,
And I’m whistlin’ while the soles of my feet burn.
Fifteen dollar suit from the sister’s
Of mercy and salvation.
Shave and a haircut from the school
Of higher cosmetology.
I got a shuffle when I walk,
I got a stutter when I talk.
Lord I’m talkin’,
I say my mother’s callin’ me.
repeat first verse
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© and ℗ 1994 Marques Bovre