The sweet pretty things are
in bed now, of course
The city fathers, they're trying
to endorse
The reincarnation of
Paul Revere's horse
But the town has
no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr,
she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun,
she violently knits
A bald wig for
Jack the Ripper, who sits
At the head of the Chamber
of Commerce
Mama's in the factory,
she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley,
he's lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with
the tombstone blues
The hysterical bride
in the penny arcade
Screaming, she moans,
"I've just been made"
Then sends out for the doctor,
who pulls down the shade
And says, "My advice is to not
let the boys in"
Now, the medicine man comes
and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger and
he says to the bride
"Stop all this weeping,
swallow your pride
You will not die,
it's not poison"
Mama's in the factory,
she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley,
he's lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with
the tombstone blues
Well, John the Baptist,
after torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero,
the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, "Tell me, great hero,
but please make it brief
Is there a hole for me
to get sick in?"
The Commander-in-Chief answers
him while chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all those
who would whimper and cry"
And, dropping a barbell,
he points to the sky
Saying, "The sun's not yellow,
it's chicken"
Mama's in the factory,
she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley,
he's lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with
the tombstone blues
The king of the Philistines,
his soldiers to save
Puts jawbones on their
tombstones and flatters
their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison
and fattens the slaves
Then sends them out
to the jungle
Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch,
he burns out their camps
With his faithful slave Pedro
behind him, he tramps
With a fantastic
collection of stamps
To win friends and
influence his uncle
Mama's in the factory,
she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley,
he's lookin' for food
I'm in trouble with
the tombstone blues
The geometry of innocence,
flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's math book
to get thrown
At Delilah, who's sitting
worthlessly alone
But the tears on her cheeks
are from laughter
I wish I could give Brother Bill
his great thrill
I would set him in chains
at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars
and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after
Mama's in the factory,
she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley,
he's lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with
the tombstone blues
Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven
once unwrapped their bedroll
Tuba players now rehearse
around the flagpole
And the National Bank at
a profit sells road maps
for the soul
To the old folks' home
and the college
Now, I wish I could write you
a melody so plain
That could hold you, dear lady,
from going insane
That could ease you and cool you
and cease the pain
Of your useless and
pointless knowledge
Mama's in the factory,
she ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley,
he's lookin' for food
I'm in the kitchen with
the tombstone blues,
oh right
