This one's from the hip
Oh mother you have sorely misjudged me
It should have been whipped
out of me
Without a father figured I
Yes, I concluded then that I'm not for spitting on

This one's from the hip
My love I should have warned you about me
It never got whipped
out of me
Me and my modesty and
Mother, your wretched son won't take his medicine

Not I
I don't care anymore
I'm sick and I'm tired
And I don't care anymore
This one's from the hip
Why should I know why
It's a wicked world?

I've had it up to here
Sweet Jesus I should have warned you about me
It's sure to end in tears
and misery
Without a father I figured I
yes I concluded then that I'm not for spitting on

Not I

Why should I know why should I care?
Who's telling me what I should wear?

Mother, your wretched son is hooked on his medicine

I don't care anymore
I'm sick and I'm tired
And I don't care anymore
This one's from the hip
Why should I know why
It's a wicked world?