Enters doctor pessimism, no one called him.

He sips his tea, demands his fee,

Offers not one word of comfort to those grieving.



Come home momma

You know the old man is dying.

Brothers, sisters,

They stand around and they are crying.



He takes his hat, snaps it back

On the empty head old lester

Thought might save him.

He snaps his purse, sends for the hearse,

Then he's off to dance beneath

Bright mirrored ceilings.



Come home momma.



It's such a bitch, when the ditch

That they're digging is for your old man to lie in.

It grows so cold, when you're told

That old lester's house is sold;

The mortgage closing.



Come home momma.