Luke Haines, Cathal Coughlan & Andrew Meuller
My Mother My Dead Mother
The cat's out the bagAnd the old bag's in the atticI'm effing and jeffingThey used to be so romanticHanging out the buntingAnd someone had a [???]On the blower to the man from TatlerMy mother, and her dead motherTheir father criedAs he placed a ring on the fingerOf each of the bridesWear it foreverHe said, you look just like my dead wifeIf there could be anotherThere's not a dry eyeFor my mother, and her dead motherMy mother insists that the cats in the yardAre well-fed, though they may show signs of wear and tearMy dead mother insists, and she insists, and she insistsThat spring may come a little late this yearDuchess's hours are longSongtextePlease move along 'cos there's nothing going onPretty as peachesWould hold us [???]The love that dare not speakMy mother, and her dead motherCackling with inbredsOver mahjong [???][???]But they're halfway up the elbowHalfway up the elbowMy mother, and her dead motherMy mother, and her dead mother
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