Mother Hips

Mona Lisa And The Last Supper

Mother Hips


When a person has too much she can forget what she really needs 
When you pull the spike from the flesh it is then that the wound will bleed 
The drawer that I was keeping your letters in 
It is filling up with hate 
And then I found you arousing my counterpart 
It's a most unusual state 
When a man needs a mate... 

Be my Mona Lisa, baby, whose smile doesn't 
bother me at all 
Be my Mona Lisa, baby, and hang on my wall 
till I get home 

So I offered up my bedroomness like unreliable advice 
This you accepted reluctantly, this you accepted twice 
And remember those platform shoes that you made so you could look me in the eye? 
By the time you climbed up into them it was 
all you could do not to cry 
and still say good-bye... 

Be my The Last Supper, baby, note that just one man faces the other 
Be my The Last Supper, baby, raising a toast to the host who has suffered the most