Why, Mama, Why?

Y’know, you’re beginning to sound more and more like your mama every day!
«Lettie! Lettie! I done tol' you — Grover don’t need no bike!»
A bike will make him proud, Mama
«He's got better things givin' him his pride.»
Now he can ride to school, Mama
«No, he can’t, 'cause he don’t know how to ride!»
He’ll learn to ride like a big boy, Mama
«He don’t need to act bigger than he is!»
He could deliver your laundry, Mama
«He'd lose it!»
He wouldn’t!
«He'd drop it!»
Ah, stop it!
Why, Mama, why
Do we bother to try
When it’s day after gray, gray day
Ah, why, Mama, why
Don’t we all up and die
Since we’re all gonna die anyway!
You gotta sell her on the features!
It’s got a little horn, Mama
«All he needs is more ways o' makin' noise.»
It’s even got three speeds, Mama
«That's the kind that gets stolen by the boys!»
I bought a lock
He can lock it, Mama
«That ain’t never stopped anybody yet.»
Then you can keep it inside here, Mama
«To trip on!»
Then lock it!
«They'd steal it!»
Then hock it!
(As the two break into an affectionate little dance, we cut to MAMA’s — aka MRS.
FAYE’s — house, with MRS. FAYE in the kitchen, not yet part of the action.
SATIN and LEROY have arrived.)
Why, Mama, why
Not give living a try
Before your poor heart goes outa gear
And it just might, Mama
Hold on tight, Mama
You know why
Mama, dear?
(SATIN and LEROY see the new bike coming, DOYLE riding it.)
'Cause there’s a white man on that bike!
And it’s here!