Young bones groan
And the rocks below say :
Throw your skinny body down, son !
But I’m going to meet the one I love
So please don’t stand in my way
Because I’m going to meet the one I love
No, mamma, let me go !
Young bones groan
And the rocks below say :
Throw your white body down !
But I’m going to meet the one I love
At last ! at last ! at last !
I’m going to meet the one I love
La-de-da, la-de-da
No, mamma, let me go !
No ...
I thought that if you had
An acoustic guitar
Then it meant that you were
A protest singer
Oh, I can smile about it now
But at the time it was terrible
No, mamma, let me go
No ... |
