Long days mash together like potatoes on Sundays,
my mind screams of all the things left to be done
but I\'m done,
I need a break, just five minutes to myself
so I sit here in the corner
on the floor of my kitchen, my favourite spot
and I hide behind a wooden chair
with my notepad, a pen and a cigarette
sipping cider from a wine glass
hoping I can finish before my name is called
again...
nope never mind, there they go,
shouting once more,
mommas work is never done
a thousand bedtimes in one night
ironing, washing up and laundry
but tonight,
tonight I give up,
what will be will be
as I sit here sipping cider from a wine glass
hoping upon hope I have more in the fridge.