perhaps I missed something

along the way

who are these little people

I work for all day

 

what do they want from me

why are they yelling

do they think they can

get away with everything

 

I like to see you

I like to be with you

your cats and plants

they’re ok

 

but you keep talking

accidents and being lonely

and you remind me

it’s getting late

 

you make me feel so good

the way you hold me tight

squeezing me like a tube

of baby-making slime

 

where do children come from

what do they want

what about the money

and my guitars

 

where do children come from

where are they going

they take all my time

leaving me crying