text: Dirty old street all slushed up in the rain and snow
  Little boy and his ma shivering outside a rundown music store window
  That night on top of a Christmas tree shines one beautiful star
  And lying underneath a brand-new Japanese guitar
  I remember in the morning, ma, hearing your alarm clock ring
  Id lie in bed and listen to you gettin ready for work
  The sound of your makeup case on the sink
  And the ladies at the office, all lipstick, perfume and rustlin skirts
  And how proud and happy you always looked walking home from work
  If pas eyes were windows into a world so deadly and true
  You couldnt stop me from looking but you kept me from crawlin through
  And if its a funny old world, mama, where a little boys wishes come true
  Well I got a few in my pocket and a special one just for you
  It aint no phone call on Sunday, flowers or a mothers day card
  It aint no house on a hill with a garden and a nice little yard
  I got my hot rod down on Bond Street, Im older but youll know me in a glance
  Well find us a little rock n roll bar and baby well go out and dance
  Well it was me in my Beatle boots, you in pink curlers and matador pants
  Pullin me up of the couch to do the twist for my uncles and aunts
  Well I found a girl of my own now, ma, I popped the question on your birthday
  She stood waiting on the front porch while you were telling me to get out there
  And say what it was that I had to say
  Last night we all sat around laughing at the things that guitar brought us
  And I layed awake thinking bout the other things its brought us
  Well tonight Im takins requests here in the kitchen
  This ones for you, ma, let me come right out and say it
  Its overdue, but baby, if youre looking for a sad song, well I aint gonna play it