mama's lying on the rotten ground there under the tree
there were the stars in her eyes and goldfingers in her hair
and I climbed over the garden wall
found her swelling in the well
pulled her out onto the grass and laid curlies to her face
to her face, to her face, to her face, to her face
my mama's going to be gone soon, saw her fall like a fountain of dust
she used to play me around the corner
she chased me to my soft, soft bed
soft soft bed, soft soft bed, soft soft bed