From the Hip

This one's from the hip Oh mother you have sorely misjudged me It should have been whipped Out of me Without a father figured I Yeah I concluded then that I'm not for spitting on This one's from the hip My love I should have warned you about me It never got whipped Out of me and my modesty and Mother, your wretched son won't take his medicine Not I I don't care anymore I'm sick and I'm tired I don't care anymore This one's from the hip Why should I know why It's a wicked world? I've had it up to here Sweet Jesus I should have warned you about me It's sure to end in tears And misery Without a father I figured I Yea I concluded then that I'm not for spitting on Not I I don't care anymore I'm sick and I'm tired I don't care anymore This one's from the hip Why should I know why It's a wicked world? Why should I know why should I care? Who's telling me what I should wear? Mother, your wretched son is hooked on his medicine Mother, your wretched son is hooked on his medicine I don't care anymore I'm sick and I'm tired And I don't care anymore No, I don't care anymore I'm sick and I'm tired I don't care anymore This one's from the hip Why should I know why It's a wicked world