I don’t need a car, a job, a husband, a dog
I just need my mum, she says.
24 and staring at the floor
Kicking my feet like a wannabe Dorothy
Kansas why’d ya leave me sore?
24 and needing a cuddle
Brain is just a jumbo muddle
Curse you, Mum, for being the best
Just look at the monstrous bar you set!
Gimme shelter, said the Stones
Well I agree, I need my home
Nothing bad ever happens there
The kids all dance without a care.
Mum, please carry me in your pocket
Whisk me off to Marks and Sparks
Spend those pennies, park the car
See pensioners fight over frilly bras
Chicken breasts and caviar.
24 and kicking my feet,
You’ll never be rid
Of this big-ass baby.
Talking to my pillow. 