The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
  The city fathers they're trying to endorse
  The reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse
  But the town has no need to be nervous.
    The ghost of Belle Star she hands down her wits
  To Jezebel the nun she violently knits
  A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
  At the head of the chamber of commerce.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
  She ain't got no shoes
  Daddy's in the alley
  He's lookin' for fuse
  I'm in the kitchen
  With the tombstone blues.
    The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
  Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
  Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade
  Says, "My advice is to not let the boys in".
    Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
  He walks with a swagger and he says to be bride
  "Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
  You will not die, it's not poison".
    Mama's in the fact'ry
  She ain't got no shoes
  Daddy's in the alley
  He's lookin' the fuse
  I'm in the kitchen
  With the tombstone blues.
    Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
  Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
  Saying, "Tell me great hero, but please make it brief
  Is there a hole for me to get sick in ?"
  The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
  Saying, "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
  And dropping a bar bell he points to the sky
  Saying, "The sun's not yellow it's chicken.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
  She ain't got no shoes
  Daddy's in the alley
  He's lookin' for fuse
  I'm in the kitchen
  With the tombstone blues.
    The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save
  Put jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
  Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
  Then sends them out to the jungle.
    Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he bums out their camps
  With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps
  With a fantastic collection of stamps
  To win friends and influence his uncle.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
  She ain't got no shoes
  Daddy's in the alley
  He's lookin' for fuse
  I'm in trouble
  With the tombstone blues.
    The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone
  Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
  At Delilah who sits worthlessly alone
  But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter.
    Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill
  I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
  Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
  He could die happily ever after.
    Mama's in the fact'ry
  She ain't got no shoes
  Daddy's in the alley
  He's lookin' for fuse
  I'm in the kitchen
  With the tombstone blues.
  Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll
  Tuba players now rehearsal around the flagpole
  And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps or the soul
  To the old folks home in the college.
    Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
  That could hold you dear lady from going insane
  That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
  Of your useless and pointless knowledge
    Mama's in the fact'ry
  She ain't got no shoes
  Daddy's in the alley
  He's lookin' for fuse
  I'm in the kitchen
  With the tombstone blues.