Once when our mother called,
She had a voice of last year’s cough.
We passed around the phone,
Sharing a word about Oregon.
When my turn came, I was ashamed.
When my turn came, I was ashamed.
Once when we moved away,
She came to Romulus for a day.
Her Chevrolet broke down.
We prayed it’d never be fixed or found.
We touched her hair, we touched her hair.
We touched her hair, we touched her hair.
When she had her last child, Once when she had some boyfriends, some wild.
She moved away quite far.
Our grandpa bought us a new VCR.
We watched it all night, but grew up in spite of it.
We watched it all night, but grew up in spite of it.
We saw her once last fall.
Our grandpa died in a hospital gown.
She didn’t seem to care.
She smoked in her room and colored her hair.
I was ashamed, I was ashamed of her
I was ashamed, I was ashamed of her
I was ashamed, I was ashamed of her
I was ashamed, I was ashamed of her