Mick Jagger - Memo From Turner

Didn't I see you down in San Antone
On a hot and dusty night?
You were eating eggs in Sammy's
When the Black man there drew his knife
Oh, you drowned that Jew in Rampton
As he washed his sleeveless shirt
You know, that Spanish-speaking gentlemen
The one that we all called Kurt?

Come now, gentlemen
I know there's some mistake
How forgetful I'm becoming
Now you've fixed your business straight

I remember you in Hemlock Road
In nineteen fifty-six
You're a faggy little leather boy
With a smaller piece of stick
Well, you're a lashing, smashing hunk of man
Your sweat shines sweet and strong
Your organ's working perfectly
But there's a part that's not screwed on Weren't you at the Coke convention
Back in nineteen sixty-five
You're the mis-bred, grey executive
I see heavily advertised
You're the great, grey man whose daughter licks
Policemen's buttons clean
You're the man who squats behind the man
Who works the soft machine

Come now, gentlemen
Your love is all I crave
You'll still be in the circus
When I'm laughing, laughing in my grave

When the old men do the fighting
And the young men all look on
And the young girls eat their mother's meat
From tubes of Plasticon
Be wary, please, my gentle friends
Of all the skins you breed
They have a tasty habit
They eat the hands that bleed

So remember who you say you are
And keep your noses clean
Boys will be boys and play with toys
So be strong with your beast
Oh, Rosie, dear, don't you think it's queer?
So stop me if you please
The baby's dead, my lady said
You gentlemen, why, you all work for me