Without God, a job or a telly
thank goodness for the baby, I say!
Feeding and cooking and washing –
So demanding, really –
Never a moment’s rest all day.

Not to complain, mind;
Himself is the one out working.
Never much of a career girl, me, and actually
(between all that feeding and cooking and washing)
the days fly by.

… Fly by, yes they do, and have:
and now that baby’s thirty-five.
lives the other side of the atlantic,
and couldn’t care less if i’m dead or alive
(except for the inheritance).

Mr. _____ is long gone;
Bowel cancer, to an early grave.
That wasn’t fun, I can tell you
Old bugger did like to complain.

So here I am, alone (but for Patches)
Not quite sure what I do with my days.
Without God, a job or a baby –
Thank goodness for the telly, I say.

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