Revolver
<p>
<blockquote>
<pre>
       His spit is worth more than her work
       Pass the purse to the pugilists
       He's a prizefighter
       And he bought rings and he owns kin
       And now he's swingin'
       And now he's the champion
       Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
       Revolver!
       Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
       Revolver
<p>
       A spotless domain
       Hides festering hopes she's certain there's more
       Pictures of fields without fences
       A spotless domain
       Hides festering hopes she's certain there's more
       Pictures of fields without fences
       Her body numbs as he approaches the door
       As he approaches the door
       As he approaches the door
       As he approaches the door
       As he approaches
       Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
       Revolver!
       Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
       Revolver!
       Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
       Revolver!
       Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
       Revolver!
<p>
       (Guitar solo)
<p>
       Yeah!
       Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
       Revolver!
       Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
       Revolver!
       Revolver!
       Revolver!
       Revolver!
       Revolver!