Rage Against the Machine

His spit is worth more than her work
Pass the purse to the pugilists
He's a prizefighter
And he bought rings and he owns kin
And now he's swingin'
And now he's the champion
Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver!
Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver

A spotless domain
Hides festering hopes she's certain there's more
Pictures of fields without fences
A spotless domain
Hides festering hopes she's certain there's more
Pictures of fields without fences
Her body numbs as he approaches the door
As he approaches the door
As he approaches the door
As he approaches the door
As he approaches
Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver!
Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver!
Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver!
Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver!

Yeah!
Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver!
Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers?
Revolver!
Revolver!
Revolver!
Revolver!
Revolver

Written by DE LA ROCHA/COMMERFORD/MORELLO/WILK
Published by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.