Whoa, well, now, Mama, we're all gonna die.
Mama, we're all gonna die.
Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry,
Mama, we're all gonna die.
And when we go don't blame us, yeah.
We let this fire just bathe us, yeah.
You made us, oh, so famous.
We’ll never let you go.
And when you go don't return to me my love.