So messy here, and messy there
it makes me want to tear my hair.
When I come home so tired from work
I’d love a break, I need a perk.
But woe is me, I’m in despair
and you don’t really seem to care.
There’s just so much for me to do,
and ev’rything revolves round you.
Your toys are tossed on all the chairs
and games are spread right down the stairs.
Books and comics on the table –
such a lot, the pile’s unstable.
Your tennis shorts are stained with grass;
you must’ve skidded on your arse.
It’s up to me to clean the stain,
boy oh boy, that is such a pain!
Your shoes are in the kitchen sink;
your lunch box, well, it sure does stink
or maybe that’s your hamster’s hutch!
Now really, do I ask so much?
But when you smile at me that way
it makes me want to stop and play.
Your happy eyes so big and brown –
why should I keep this grumpy frown?
On the floor I will play with you
and I will pray about us, too –
that we stay loving, true and kind,
and to this mess I can be blind.
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