Well I never go visit my mother Like my father and my brother do I can't stand the constant traffic On Belmont Avenue And the pious old men in their coats and beards Who appear as if on cue For a small donation They'll say the mourner's prayer for you Some might say I've got a heart of stone But I think if that were true I'd get along better With the dead than I do Well I never go visit my mother Like my father and my brother do I can't stand the constant traffic On Belmont Avenue Copyright 1995, Hugh Blumenfeld / Hydrogen Jukebox Music
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