Hey, hey, mama; mama, what you tryin' to do?
You keep on talkin' to me, 'till your face turns blue.
Well, do you think I'm a young boy, yet to make up my mind?
Well, I'm just castin' all my toys, I'm gonna' leave what's behind me, behind.
I'm gonna' leave what's behind me, behind.
Lyric provided by http://www.poprockbands.com
I saw an old high school friend, just the other day,
He didn't ask me how I'd been, he asked me "how was my pay?"
Now, do you call this a friendship, judging from what he said?
If you do, I've a real tip: ain't nobody gonna' know about my bread.
Ain't nobody gonna' know about my bread.
Lyric provided by http://www.poprockbands.com
If you got somebody, that you can trust to the very end,
I said if you do, I want to be like you, 'cause you sure got a real good friend.
You sure got a real good friend.
Friend ...
Friend ...
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