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John, what's happening to us?
I think we both know Mary. With all our technology and industrial know how
we still don't have the one thing that could give us a better way of life
they say it can't be done, that it's just an impossible dream.
Victoria, why must you be so cold? Why must you be above my every feeling, have
you no soul?
And Brooklyn dear, why must you hide in fear? Why must you hide behind the skirts of strangers
when I come near?
I never felt worse than tonight, my ideals are begging to die,
So when I drown in my blood don't bother to ask reasons....
Why there's a red ribbon tied to my wrist, protection from all four lines of English,
But Saint Jude's backed me right from the beginning I might as well stop.
Oh Bellingham, it's been how many years? My fondness fills as yearning overwhelms me,
for your kind ears.
And oh Charleston, your lovely summer nights, Your southern kindness washes my wounds clean,
just like your ocean side.
And a thicker skin I've always lacked and hypocritically asking more tact,
It'd benefit me if you'd lend your ears, take fiction for...
The fact that you would give some of your time, to help a stranger in easing his mind,
With pressing highways and financial worries, well, I'll be okay.
And oh Provo, why must you be so strange? Why must you divide people to extremes? You
give your own bad name! A clever trick to keep people at bay, so many
come and then go on their way, We may not live here forever but we'll always
be glad we came.
Oh you American mothers with your bridge parties and beauty shops and your silly flirtations.
Wasting your lives and neglecting your duties, letting your children run wild for lack of
sensible parental supervision.
Oh you don't know American children, they're spoiled and disobedient and drunken.
Drunken? Yes! Drunk with the exuberance of youth and sheer joy of living. There's nothing
really wrong with the children of today.
Nothing that proper environment and congenial home life wouldn't correct.
What do you expect us modern mothers to do?
Quit trying to be butterflies, get back to the business of being mothers like your mother
and your grandmother. And generations of mothers before them.
A lesson in morals and ethics is fine, coming from you. A professional jiggelo.