PREGNANT WOMAN'S SONG

Weather's chill, God damn it all
Detergent's cracked my hands so sore
As if three kids were not enough
This next one makes it four

Wash the risers, light the stove, and throw the trash away
Does the fault belong with me or that man of mine, what say?

Oh mama, he kicks me hard
He'll pierce my gut, I fear
Come on babe, do you suppose
It's all holidays out here?

To the grocer's, wash the clothes, and throw the trash away
Does the fault belong with me or that man of mine, what say?

Ok ma'am, I'm on my way
God willing you'll go dumb
I've had it, Lord. Itís snow 'n storm
On the peaks of Erzurum

Wash the dishes, cook the food, and throw the trash away
Does the fault belong with me or that man of mine, what say?

Weather's chill, God damn it all
Detergent's cracked my hands so sore
As if three kids were not enough
This next one makes it four

Wash the risers, light the stove, and throw the trash away
Does the fault belong with me or that man of mine, what say?