He's already lost his favourite guitars Hopelessly fading into too many bars It's a kind disintegrating feeling That carries the weight of his world Some of the time a situation arises Where somebody asks him to shed his disguises All of his time is a sharp decline Everybody around him stands outside the line until Mother's Day Like any other day he lives the danger sign And God's his [?] And sips his vintage wine On Mother's Day Sleeping in pastures His life's a disaster He's rolling on empty and just couldn't go faster Time for laughs No stark contrast could ever carry the weight of his world Single inside his fragile mind He's love with his family but he'd rather have mine Until Mother's Day Like any other day he lives the danger signs And God's his [?] And sips his vintage wine On Mother's Day