Lyrics:

His spit
Is worth more than her work
Pass the purse to the pugilist
He's a prizefighter
He brought rings and he owns kin
And now he's swingin'
And now he's the champion

Hey, revolver
Don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver
Hey, revolver
Don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver

A spotless domain
Hides festerning hopes
She's certain there's more
Pictures of fields without fences

A spotless domain
Hides festering hopes
She's certain there's more
Pictures of fields without fences

Her body numbs as he approaches the door
As he approaches the door
As he approaches the door
As he approaches the door
As he approaches the door
As he approaches

Hey, revolver
Don't mothers
Make good fathers?
Revolver

Hey, revolver
Don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver
Hey, revolver
Don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver

Hey, revolver
Don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver
Hey, revolver
Don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver

Hey, revolver
Don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver
Hey, revolver
Don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver

Revolver
Revolver
Revolver
Revolver