My mother will be so excited
She's been planin' the party for years
Invitations all say "He's Come of Age!"
It'll sure bring my poor Mom to tears.
Now the invites will have to be sorted
Cause some on the list, they have died.
Others have moved and others don't care,
Now matter how hard they have tried.
I wish I could please my poor mama,
After high school and college and war,
She hoped and she prayed I'd be comin' of age,
But the child in me still yearned for more.
So mama dear mama I love ya
And although I'm wrinkled and stout,
You'd better get used to my livin' right here
Cause I don't think I'll ever move out!