Stay-at-home Mom

Why didn't you kill yourself today?
What cross, what coupon, what cathode ray

Put the joie de vivre in your diseased heart?
How Anne Hathaway,
How Peg Bundy
Thou art.
Hey Sugar:
Prove to me that the air you breathe
Wasn't better served by the leaves of a tree.
You're but a breeder,
Tax break receiver
With menopause sweats
A TV tray and a mosh pit son
Who wastes the marrow of his bones
Jumping into these drums.

Please tell him:
Don't stand so (no)
Don't stand so (close)
Don't stand so close to me.
See, I know your children
Because I've been your children
And us children, hopeful children
Ain't worth the stretch marks baby.

'Cause we may sing these songs of protest,
Cast our ballots, too
Forgo meat and
Ride our bikes and
Get our band's stupid tattoo
But it means nothing,
Nothing,
When we get eaten by the sun.
Que sera
Que sera
For, whatever there is will soon be all gone.
So what's wrong
With a song
That asks wherefore and why have you lived this long?
A purpose?
You want a reason?
Stop believing.
Or stop needing the answers.
There are no answers
Except the sun, the sun, the sun.
While you sit on your couch
And wait up for your boy
We're polluting his mind with this