Mama, oh, I’ve tried
but can’t see from the back
I can hear the chalk a screechin’ but to me it’s a sea of black
and I’ve often tried the front
closer to the blackened sea
but the back of my neck’s
gettin’ awfully raw from all the trajectory,
I hear laughing, I hear voices
I hear what could be Chinese
but the meeting with the teacher
could not make sense of these
it’s not that I’m slow
I think everyone is quick
So they put me under observation
fill my head with dye
look for the reason why
that they put me under observation
brush it under a rug
one day it’ll all go away
mama, I don’t know
how these beets got in my coat
they brought me to this little room
and told me I could use the phone
that’s why before you cut that check
there’s a man who you should meet
could I visit with him daily
and plus, I don’t even like beets.
smash the windows, tear the curtains
if I don’t get my way,
the governor has promised me
a comfy place to stay;
it’s not that I’m well
I think everyone is sick
So he put me under observation
thinking he might know
whether or not he should go
and put me on some medication
brush it under a rug
one day it’ll all go away
now could you tell me
did my life start at fifteen
they gave me just a little charge
and the rest is a blur to me
I feel silly, I feel stupid
I feel happy all the time
I feel silly, I feel stupid
oh, you heard me the first time,
hear me ramble, hear me babble
now don’t you walk away
I have something very important
I forgot what I was going to say
So they have me under observation
life out on the farm
protecting me from harm
protecting me from laceration
brush it under the rug
one day it’ll all go away
mama say goodnight now
I’ll smoke before I sleep
I know, I know, don’t tell me
don’t smoke and fall asleep
I feel drowsy and unconscious
as I lie upon this bed
I should probably turn the light out
but I’ll lie back instead . . .
mama can’t you hear me
don’t you love me anymore
I can’t put out my cigarette
I can’t make it to the door
I feel weightless and angelic
and the view up here is nice
you can tell them to come over
and unhook their device
and I’ll keep you under observation
carry on like always
and don’t cry for a minute
‘cause this might be cause for celebration
I think I’ve grown some wings
it’s time to fly away
Mike Clem © 1997 J. Fish Music/ASCAP