Song | Mama |
Artist | Magnum |
Album | Goodnight L.A. |
Mama we all go to hell. | |
Mama we all go to hell. | |
I'm writing this letter and wishing you well. | |
Mama we all go to hell. | |
Mama we're all gonna die. | |
Mama we're all gonna die. | |
Stop asking me questions, I hate to see you cry. | |
Mama we're all gonna die. | |
And when we go don't blame us, yeah, | |
We let the fire just bathe us, yeah, | |
You made us oh so famous | |
We’ll never let you go. | |
And when you go don't return to me my love. | |
Mama we're all full of lies. | |
Mama we're meant for the flies. | |
And right now they're building a coffin your size. | |
Mama we're all full of lies. | |
Well mother what the war did to my legs and to my tongue, | |
You shoulda raised a baby girl | |
I shoulda been a better son | |
If you could counter the infection, they can amputate at once | |
You should’ve been | |
I could've been a better son. | |
And when we go don't blame us, yeah, | |
We let this fire just bathe us, yeah, | |
You made us oh so famous, | |
We'll never let you go. | |
She said you ain't no son of mine | |
For what you've done there | |
You’ll find a place for you | |
And just you mind your manners when you go. | |
And when you go don't return to me my love, | |
That's right. | |
Mama we all go to hell, | |
Mama we all go to hell, | |
It’s really quite pleasant except for the smell, | |
Mama we all go to hell. | |
Mama, Mama, Mama, ohhhh. | |
Mama, Mama, Mama. | |
Liza: and if you would call me your sweetheart, i'd maybe then sing you a song. | |
Gerard: but the shit that I've done with this spark of a gun, | |
You will cry us to rise up alive. | |
We’re dead after all. | |
Through fortune and fame we fall. | |
And if you can say that I’ll show you the way | |
And straight from the ashes you crawl. | |
We all carry on, | |
Like our brothers in arms we fall, | |
So raise your guns high for tomorrow we die, | |
And return from the ashes you're from. |
Mama we all go to hell. | |
Mama we all go to hell. | |
I' m writing this letter and wishing you well. | |
Mama we all go to hell. | |
Mama we' re all gonna die. | |
Mama we' re all gonna die. | |
Stop asking me questions, I hate to see you cry. | |
Mama we' re all gonna die. | |
And when we go don' t blame us, yeah, | |
We let the fire just bathe us, yeah, | |
You made us oh so famous | |
We' ll never let you go. | |
And when you go don' t return to me my love. | |
Mama we' re all full of lies. | |
Mama we' re meant for the flies. | |
And right now they' re building a coffin your size. | |
Mama we' re all full of lies. | |
Well mother what the war did to my legs and to my tongue, | |
You shoulda raised a baby girl | |
I shoulda been a better son | |
If you could counter the infection, they can amputate at once | |
You should' ve been | |
I could' ve been a better son. | |
And when we go don' t blame us, yeah, | |
We let this fire just bathe us, yeah, | |
You made us oh so famous, | |
We' ll never let you go. | |
She said you ain' t no son of mine | |
For what you' ve done there | |
You' ll find a place for you | |
And just you mind your manners when you go. | |
And when you go don' t return to me my love, | |
That' s right. | |
Mama we all go to hell, | |
Mama we all go to hell, | |
It' s really quite pleasant except for the smell, | |
Mama we all go to hell. | |
Mama, Mama, Mama, ohhhh. | |
Mama, Mama, Mama. | |
Liza: and if you would call me your sweetheart, i' d maybe then sing you a song. | |
Gerard: but the shit that I' ve done with this spark of a gun, | |
You will cry us to rise up alive. | |
We' re dead after all. | |
Through fortune and fame we fall. | |
And if you can say that I' ll show you the way | |
And straight from the ashes you crawl. | |
We all carry on, | |
Like our brothers in arms we fall, | |
So raise your guns high for tomorrow we die, | |
And return from the ashes you' re from. |