Mama
Thursday, February 25, 2010 - 21:20
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
Oh well, now, Mama, we're all gonna die
Mama, we're all gonna die
Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry
Mama, we're all gonna die
And when we go, don't blame us, yeah
We'll let the fires 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 should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son
If you could coddle the infection, they can amputate it once
You should've been, I could have been a better son
And when we go, don't blame us, yeah
We'll let the fires 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, they're gonna 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! Oh!
Mama! Mama! Mama! Ma...
And if you would call me a sweetheart
I'd maybe then sing you a song
But there's shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun
You would cry out your eyes, all along
We're damned, after all
Through fortune and flame, we fall
And if you can stay, then I'll show you the way
To return from the ashes you call
We all carry on
When our brothers in arms are gone
So raise your glass high, for tomorrow, we die
And return from the ashes you call
Mama, we all go to hell
I'm writing this letter and wishing you well
Mama, we all go to hell
Oh well, now, Mama, we're all gonna die
Mama, we're all gonna die
Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry
Mama, we're all gonna die
And when we go, don't blame us, yeah
We'll let the fires 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 should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son
If you could coddle the infection, they can amputate it once
You should've been, I could have been a better son
And when we go, don't blame us, yeah
We'll let the fires 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, they're gonna 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! Oh!
Mama! Mama! Mama! Ma...
And if you would call me a sweetheart
I'd maybe then sing you a song
But there's shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun
You would cry out your eyes, all along
We're damned, after all
Through fortune and flame, we fall
And if you can stay, then I'll show you the way
To return from the ashes you call
We all carry on
When our brothers in arms are gone
So raise your glass high, for tomorrow, we die
And return from the ashes you call
Writer(s): Frank Iero, Gerard Way, Ray Toro, Mikey Way, James Dewees
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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