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 ...
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