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Memo From Turner

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 we all called Kurt

Come now, gentleman

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 organs working perfectly

But there's a part that's not screwed on

Weren't you at the Coke convention

Back on nineteen sixty-five

You're the misbred, gray executive

I've seen heavily advertised

You're the great, gray man whose daughter licks

Policemen's buttons clean

You're the man who squats behind the man

Who works the soft machine

Come now, gentleman

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 mothers meat

From tubes of plasticon

Be wary of these 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'tcha think it's queer

So stop me if you please

The baby is dead, my lady said

"You gentlemen, why you all work for me?"

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written by JAGGER, MICK / RICHARDS, KEITH

Lyrics © ABKCO Music Inc.

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