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