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The Mother Hips — Mother Hips
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You used to be so beautiful
In your father's house on the hill
Carrying your black bound book
Beyond the world of thrill
We'd dream of blond-haired children
Who'd run between my legs
You ordered me an omelet
But I was not eating eggs

You gave me 547 days
To try and find a start
Of the railway line to heaven
Where you arranged to send your heart
I used to put an X across
The days that you and I missed
But I burned my calendar and gone to sleep
And dreamed of your mother hips

The next time that I saw you
Your hair had turned to brown
You yelled at me across the room
But you did not make a sound
You were standing with a widower
Who lost his will to try
And was fooling all the drunken girls
Who came to see him cry

Late at night through the candle light
I told you it wasn't just for kicks
You said, "what?" and we nestled down into your mother hips

Late at night through the candle light
I told you it wasn't just for kicks
You said, "what" and we nestled down into your mother hips
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