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 Starr 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 the fuse   I'm in the streets   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 the 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' for the fuse   I'm in the streets   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   Saving, "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 the fuse   I'm in the streets   With the tombstone blues      The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save   Puts 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 burns 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 the fuse   I'm in the streets   With the tombstone blues      The geometry of innocent 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 the fuse   I'm in the streets   With the tombstone blues      Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll   Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole   And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul   To the old folks home and 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 the fuse   I'm in the streets   With the tombstone blues