“No use crying over spilt milk,” my mother never said to me
That’s because I don’t like dairy, which begs the question
Am I just a chip off the old block?
Her cult of personality clouds my own
I am becoming my mother, and life goes on
That’s because I don’t like dairy, which begs the question
Am I just a chip off the old block?
Her cult of personality clouds my own
I am becoming my mother, and life goes on