Mama don't understand; she wants to hold my hand night and day,
And she don't like my clothes, and they're wearing thin on her nerves,
And she don't like my hair, and my glorious crown brings her down,
And she won't take me serious; think I'll join the circus, be a clown.
They'll all laugh, they'll all laugh,
They'll all laugh, but it's not funny, no.
And I'm restless; wanna bust out of my skin,
Got a rocket in my pocket,
Got no fuel, no charted course, got no direction,
No, they did not give me those in school,
And, yes, I've been a fool for cool,
But no kind of hair, no shoes, no jacket's gonna help me hack it, hack it,
Hack it to pieces, man; I've had it,
And you can have it.
And then I'll laugh, and I'll laugh,
Then I'll laugh; it's not funny, no,
It's not funny, no it's not.
Well, I wonder what will get me off, so I pick, and choose, and take,
And in a couple years, you're right, I'm left with a great big heartache,
So deep and wide that no matter what I stuff inside it's empty, just the way it came,
It's a crying shame, but all the same...
I laugh, oh, I laugh,
Yes, I laugh, but it's not funny at all.
Should I recall all the people I have hurt along the way?
And I try to justify every wrong I did not right,
But two wrongs don't make it right, so it keeps me up at night,
And I lie awake, and while away the meanwhile,
And meanwhile...meanwhile I dwell on the baby that I killed or the drink I should have not refilled,
And every heart I broke in two and left to die, bleeding on the roadside,
Or I could sit and let my eyes get filled with mist for every girl that I should not have kissed,
And all the broken family ties: the loved ones I have missed,
Yes, I have mist in my eyes, and so I cry, but why should I, should I...
When I could laugh, I could laugh,
I could laugh; it's not funny, no,
It's not funny, no, it's not funny.
And everything I've got I'm gonna lose,
Both good and bad will pass; and what next?
What lies beyond the broken dreams and shattered mirrors that I keep looking in to check my luck or skill?
But only pride keeps staring back.
And still I laugh,
Still I laugh.
And none of this, of course, will stand when I stand before the man on that great day of the great divide, when all the kings and queens will have their closets emptied,
And the bones all fall out,
Them bones, them bones, them dry bones will not fail,
Dead men will tell tales.
And you can laugh, and I can laugh,
And we can laugh; it's not funny, no,
And you can laugh, and I can laugh,
And we can laugh; it's not funny, no,
I can laugh, we can laugh,
I can laugh; it's not funny,
It's not funny, it's not funny,
It's not funny, it's not funny, no,
(fade)
