The Mom Song

You think I should wear tighter clothes
Appeal to those gender norms
Get off the pills, un-pierce my nose
And maybe then I’ll start to sell out
Showers

You think I should cut caffeine
Do Pilates and yoga and eating clean
While I’m at it, nicotine
Then all of my success is guaranteed

I ask you for advice and I end up in a crisis
I’m in my twenties, but I just want my mom to like me
I just want my mom to like me

I don’t need vibe ends
I can plan my days in advance
And set alarms and take some classes
Then my art will really stand a chance
Sorry, mom, I’m kissing girls
I sleep in late and bleach your curls
Wear baggy clothes with candied pearls
I chip my nails and use bed fuck
Sorry, mom, I’m not okay
Lately, I think you’re ashamed
My friends do poppers and cocaine
I’m worried I’ll go back

I ask you for advice and I end up in a crisis
I’m in my twenties, but I just want my mom to like me
I just want my mom to like me

Sorry, mom, I’m my own person
Maybe just a little worse
An all different kind of version of what you had in mind
Sorry, mom, I’m my own person
Maybe just a little worse
An all different kind of version of what you had in mind

I ask you for advice and I end up in a crisis
I’m pushing thirty, but I just want my mom to like me
I just want my mom to like me