An extremely quiet child, they called you in your school report

He's always taken interest in the subjects that he's taught

So what was it that brought the squad car screaming up your drive

To notify your parents of the manner in which you died? At St. Patricks every Sunday, Father Fletcher heard your sins

Oh, he's unconcerned with competition he never cares to win

But blood stained a young hand that never held a gun

And his parents never thought of him as their troubled son "Now you'll never get to Heaven", Mama said

Remember Mama said

Ticking, ticking, grow up straight and true blue

Run along to bed, hear it, hear it, ticking, ticking They had you holed up in a downtown bar screaming for a priest

Some gook said, "His brain's just snapped"

Then someone called the police

You'd knifed a Negro waiter who had tried to calm you down

Oh you'd pulled a gun and told them all to lay still on the ground Promising to hurt no one, providing they were still

A young man tried to make a break, with tear-filled eyes you killed

That gun butt felt so smooth and warm cradled in your palm

Oh your childhood cried out in your head, they mean to do you harm "Don't ever ride on the Devil's knee", Mama said

Remember Mama said

Ticking, ticking, pay your penance well, my child

Fear where Angels tread, hear it, hear it, ticking, ticking Within an hour the news had reached the media machine

A male Caucasian with a gun had gone berserk in Queens

The area had been sealed off, the kids sent home from school

Fourteen people lying dead in a bar, they called the Kicking Mule Oh they pleaded to your sanity for the sake of those inside

Throw out your gun, walk out slow, just keep your hands held high

But they pumped you full of rifle shells as you stepped out the door

Oh you danced in death like a Marionette on the vengeance of the law "You've slept too long in silence", Mama said

Remember Mama said

Ticking, ticking, crazy boy, you'll only wind up

With strange notions in your head, hear it, hear it, ticking, ticking