There's one thing, mama,
I think you should know:
It is not love
That makes the flowers grow,
But a complex electron transfer process
Known as photosynthesis when chlorophyll
Reacts with the light of day.
Since you're gone,
The light has gone away.
There's another thing, mama,
I think that you'll find:
It is not love
That makes the stars shine,
But the spontaneous combustion
Of superheated super condensed gases
And the process known as fusion
That creates new elements when the time is right.
Since you're gone,
The stars don't shine so bright.
Oh, there's another thing, mama,
I think I should confide:
It is not love
That'll turn the tide,
But the net difference in the gravitational pull
Between the Earth and the Moon as it is acted out upon the waves.
Since you're gone,
I feel washed away.
I could have been a planetician, studied rockets for a living,
Would have worked out better in the end.
But to get more specific, I'd break every law of physics
To bring you back to me again
But there's one more thing, mama,
I'll tell you if I can:
It is not love
That makes a non-stick frying pan,
But a top secret, trademarked, conglomerated,
Most likely carcinogenic polyurethane compound
Spread in a micro-thin substance over
A negatively charged layer of aluminum,
Copper, iron, lead,
V-H-S, F-Y-I, apple pie, F-B-I,
And some other elements too.
Since you're gone,
I wish I'd stuck to you.