Dangers - Stay-At-Home Mom lyrics
[Dangers - Stay-At-Home Mom lyrics]
Why didn’t you kill yourself today?
What cross, what coupon, what cathode ray
Put this 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 (noise)
What cross, what coupon, what cathode ray
Put this 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 (noise)