Lyrics:

Swiftest fingers play for money
Best are tangled up in minds
Sweetest sisters, now, come down to cunnin' and
They buy no true of any kind
You know
Senile mothers hang around and hoot their snippin' sounds and
Hunking husbands sell their pound of flesh
You know, the most sung song is Sixteen Tons
Only trash is good for cash
Well
Send me your greetings
Sweet, sweet love
Command me, if I need be to
Heaven above
Your so-called friends, honey, just drain your brain, now
To be a star in conversation
The clap-trap fowls, ma, on Lover's Lane
Only meant to keep you on probation
Shoot your shit, honey, and shoot your stinkin' lip
You won't find a way to score a solid hit
I said, try everything, ma, to prove you're hip
You're only gonna end up the final stupid flip
Cha
Greetings
Sweet, sweet love
Command me, if I need be, to
Heaven above
But leave me, please leave me, mom
With the scum and the junkies
On skid row
Where all names are delusive
Skid row
Where pain is exclusive
Skid row

(Hoo-hoo, hoo)

Skid row
Where all names are delusive
Skid row, mom
Pain is exclusive
(Skid row) Skid row
On skid row
Where all names are delu
Skid row
Pain is exclusive
(Skid row) Skid row
(Hoo-hoo, hoo)