Oh my, my, my, mother, it feels like death
Is breathing down my neck
Some sickness is in my stomach
And my skin is pale and red
Come back home to tell ya
I'd forget you before I'm gone
Now listen I'm gonna go sleep
In my old bed for a night alone

Forget the doctor this is way beyond him
If you wanna help you, can go fetch a priest
I swear there are multitudes of devoted buzzards
Descending upon me

Yes, some money would certainly help
To get me to Nеw York
The hospitals there providе quality care
But with seven million people they might not have anymore
Hey, mama, did I tell ya?
I got married six years back
Her name? That don't matter
Our love, it fell off the track

Goddamnit, I told ya not to go get the doctor
If he wants to help, he can go fetch a priest
That small town fool doesn't know a damn thing
About the cancer inside me
Okay, listen. I'll be straight. I ain't dyin' and I ain't sick
But I did kick the drugs and I'm writing a book and I'm already 200 pages in
Hey, mama, about that money
It'd sure help me make things good
Call it a loan, you know I'm good for it
I can play the spades better than anyone could