Why, Mama, Why?
Y'know, you're beginning to sound more and more
Like your mama every day!
"Lettie! Lettie! I done tol' you - Grover don't need no bike!"
A bike will make him proud, Mama
"He's got better things givin' him his pride."
Now he can ride to school, Mama
"No, he can't, 'cause he don't know how to ride!"
He'll learn to ride like a big boy, Mama
"He don't need to act bigger than he is!"
He could deliver your laundry, Mama
"He'd lose it!"
He wouldn't!
"He'd drop it!"
Ah, stop it!
Why, Mama, why
Do we bother to try
When it's day after gray, gray day
Ah, why, Mama, why
Don't we all up and die
Since we're all gonna die anyway!
You gotta sell her on the features!
It's got a little horn, Mama
"All he needs is more ways o' makin' noise."
It's even got three speeds, Mama
"That's the kind that gets stolen by the boys!"
I bought a lock
He can lock it, Mama
"That ain't never stopped anybody yet."
Then you can keep it inside here, Mama
"To trip on!"
Then lock it!
"They'd steal it!"
Then hock it!
Why, Mama, why
Not give living a try
Before your poor heart goes outa gear
And it just might, Mama
Hold on tight, Mama
You know why, Mama dear
'Cause there's a white man on that bike
And it's here
Like your mama every day!
"Lettie! Lettie! I done tol' you - Grover don't need no bike!"
A bike will make him proud, Mama
"He's got better things givin' him his pride."
Now he can ride to school, Mama
"No, he can't, 'cause he don't know how to ride!"
He'll learn to ride like a big boy, Mama
"He don't need to act bigger than he is!"
He could deliver your laundry, Mama
"He'd lose it!"
He wouldn't!
"He'd drop it!"
Ah, stop it!
Why, Mama, why
Do we bother to try
When it's day after gray, gray day
Ah, why, Mama, why
Don't we all up and die
Since we're all gonna die anyway!
You gotta sell her on the features!
It's got a little horn, Mama
"All he needs is more ways o' makin' noise."
It's even got three speeds, Mama
"That's the kind that gets stolen by the boys!"
I bought a lock
He can lock it, Mama
"That ain't never stopped anybody yet."
Then you can keep it inside here, Mama
"To trip on!"
Then lock it!
"They'd steal it!"
Then hock it!
Why, Mama, why
Not give living a try
Before your poor heart goes outa gear
And it just might, Mama
Hold on tight, Mama
You know why, Mama dear
'Cause there's a white man on that bike
And it's here
Credits
Writer(s): Larry Grossman, Ellen Fitzhugh
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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