It's the Lord Henry with Fire on 42nd Street.

My mother, my mother said.

If it weren't for she would be so much.

And, if she wanted me to come to her place,

to do something else,

then simply stop in the way she walked.

The Lord said,

why did you而ot her?

Because your mother is your own mother.

I should have said it for her to die,

because you are no longer a god.

I'm your mother,

I'm your mother,

She won't be throwing up there

Well, I'll have a pen

And what's the thing you sing with us

And if I close my eyes wide

You wonder what I'm thinking about

And if you close your eyes wide

Won't have to sing it's thinking about

Just think it down and down

Alright, alright, alright

...