Omega — Mamma Said

Yesterday my mamma said "Your hair's too long Hold your head up, yeah Go away and get it cut And don't come back Until it's short, no, ooh" Friday morning on the pray [Preacher Heard?] is preachin' it up Angry 'cause he cannot see Why's he always pick on me? Oh... Mamma's sure to jump with joy For I am still her little boy, oh People say I should behave Shouldn't run around or rave, oh, ooh There's a lot of good advice To make me gentle, good and wise, oh Though my hair's a bit too long I know [to ride] what's right and wrong