A Chat With Your Mom
(Lou & Peter Berryman, ©1984)
 

Oh the pirates in their fetid galleons daggers in their skivvies
With infected tattooed fingers on a blunderbuss or two
Signs of scurvy in their eyes and only mermaids on their minds
It's from them I would expect to hear the F-word not from you
 	
There are lumberjacks from Kodiak vacationing in Anchorage
Enchanted with their pine tar soup and caribou shampoo
With seven weeks of back pay in their aromatic woolens
It's from them I would expect to hear the F-word not from you

Chorus:
We sit down to have a chat
It's F-word this and F-word that
I can't control how you young people talk with one another
But I don't want to hear you use that F-word with your mother

There are militant survivalists with Gucci bandeleros
Taking tacky khaki walkie talkies to the rendezvous
Trading all the latest armor-piercing ammo information
It's from them I would expect to hear the F-word not from you

There are jocks who think that God himself is drooling in the bleachers
In a cold November downpour with a belly full of brew
Whose entire grasp of heaven has a lot to do with football
It's from them I would expect to hear the F-word not from you

Chorus

There's unsavory musicians with their filthy pinko lyrics
Who destroy the social fabric and enjoy it when they do
With their groupies and addictions and their poor heart-broken parents
It's from them I would expect to hear the F-word not from you

Chorus