This one's from the hip, oh mother you have sorely misjudged me
It should have been whipped out of me
Without a father figured I
Yeh I concluded then that I'm not for spitting on

This one's from the hip, my love I should have warned you about me
It never got whipped out of me
Me and my modesty and
Mother your wretched son won't take his medicine

Not I, I don't care anymore
I'm sick and I'm tired and I don't care anymore

This one's from the hip, why should I know why?
It's a wicked world, I've had it up to here
Sweet Jesus I should have warned you about me, it's sure to end in tears
And misery, without a father figured I
Yeh I concluded then that I'm not for spitting on

Not I Why should I know why should I care?
Who's telling me what I should wear?
Mother your wretched son is hooked on his medicine

I don't care anymore, I'm sick and I'm tired
And I don't care anymore

This one's from the hip, why should I know why?
It's a wicked world