ON the TRANSMIGRATION of SOULS
O Superman. O judge. O Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad.O Superman. O judge. O Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad.Hi. I'm not home right now. But if you want to leave aMessage, just start talking at the sound of the tone.Hello? This is your Mother. Are you there? Are youComing home?Hello? Is anybody home? Well, you don't know me,But I know you.And I've got a message to give to you.Here come the planes.So you better get ready. Ready to go. You can comeAs you are, but pay as you go. Pay as you go.And I said: OK. Who is this really? And the voice said:This is the hand, the hand that takes. This is theHand, the hand that takes.This is the hand, the hand that takes.Here come the planes.They're American planes. Made in America.Smoking or non-smoking?And the voice said: Neither snow nor rain nor gloomOf night shall stay these couriers from the swiftCompletion of their appointed rounds.'Cause when love is gone, there's always justice.And when justice is gone, there's always force.And when force is gone, there's always Mom. Hi Mom!So hold me, Mom, in your long arms. So hold me,Mom, in your long arms.In your automatic arms. Your electronic arms.In your arms.So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.Your petrochemical arms. Your military arms.In your electronic arms.