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Last Child

Take me back to a south Tallahassee

Down cross the bridge to my sweet sassafrassy

Can't stand up on my feet in the city

Got to get back to the real nitty gritty

Yes sir, no sir

Don't come close to my

Home sweet home

Can't catch no dose

Of my hot tail poon-tang sweatheart

Sweathog ready to make a silk purse

From a J Paul Getty and his ear

With a face in a beer

Home sweet home

Get out in the field,

Put the mule in the stable

Ma, she's a cookin'

Put the eats on the table

Hate's in the city and my love's in the meadow

Hand's on the plow and my feets in the ghetto

Stand up, sit down

Don't do nothin'

Ain't no good when boss man's stuffin'

Down their throats with paper notes

As babies cry

When you're rockin' the street

Home sweet home

Mamma take me home sweet home

I was the last child, just a punk in the street.

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written by STEVEN TYLER, BRAD WHITFORD

Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

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