Mama, she loves me.
Wouldn’t hurt me none.
She tells me, your Papa,
Look what he has done.
He cursed you. He hit you.
Chased you with an axe.
And while you was outrunnin’ him
Mama was coverin’ tracks.
She set him up and
Popped him off.
Used him like an old rag cloth.
Wiped the floor with his weak dreams.
Fixed it all so he’d look mean.
Pulled his strings and Papa danced,
Never gave him half a chance
To be himself, revealed to us.
Mama spat and mama cussed.
He is a bad man.
You be glad then,
Mama’s here to save you…
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