Didn't I see you down in San Antone on a hot and dusty night?
We were eating eggs in Sammy's when the black man there drew his knife
Aw, 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 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
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
Oh weren't you at the coke convention back in nineteen sixty-five
You're the misbred, grey executive I've seen 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
Oh when the old men do the fighting and the young men all look on
And the young girls eat their mothers' 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, doncha 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!
Memo From Turner Lyrics performed by Mick Jagger are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Memo From Turner Lyrics performed by Mick Jagger is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD