Mother, you were first upon the beach
You stormed the wake boards and the free bar at Normandy
Where they shot at Grandpa's head while he screamed,
"If I ever get through this, I will be a good book salesman"
And when he survived he kept his promise gratefully,
And he lived and died serving money and making his family
And he wanted you to do the same, but times change
You serve yourself, you serve yourself
But Mother, Mother I am becoming another family
I kept none of your strange advice and let the bad drift right up out of sight
Out of my atmosphere before it choked me and killed me,
Like your servant did to you on your vacation when your too-late reformation
Left you bronzed for dead by the pool in the April heat
In a spring setting records every second until you grilled like meat
And I helped myself