Young bones groan And the rocks below say: "Throw your skinny body down, son!" But I'm going to meet the one I love So please, don't stand in my way Because I'm going to meet the one I love No, Mamma, let me go! Young bones groan And the rocks below say: "Throw your white body down!" But I'm going to meet the one I love At last! At last! At last! I'm going to meet the one I love La-de-da la-de-da No, Mamma, let me go! I thought that if you had An acoustic guitar Then it meant that you were A Protest Singer Oh I can smile about it now But at the time it was terrible No, Mamma, let me go!