Your Ma, she left you a little meat.
But she ate the fat, your Pa ate the lean
Then he licked the plate and the platter clean
Your Ma took the knife, the fork, the spoon
And threw them all at her silly groom.
Cause he knocked her up on her honey moon.

Your father Jack he got so distraught
He threw the fiddle at the cat
Then he took the stick and beat up the dog.
And chased the brown cow all over town.
Your ma called the corps and told on him.
Then packed her suitcase and left for good.

So your mama Jill is missing still.
Your Pa feels down he's got a broken will.
Cause the corpse chase him
Up and down the hill.
So this ain't no supper no need to sing.
Come, let me tuck you into bed
There ain't no more song in your little head.