At our rocking show last night, there was a request by Kerry and Ann (two lovely ladies singing me the lyrics back to me during the show) to have the lyrics. Also, people keep asking who writes our stuff. Chad and Andre write the music and I write the lyrics, but of course we all work together as a band and do synthesis and shit. On this song, Dean Lean blesses us with guitar. Here you go, girls. More to come!

Sack Lunch
The pre-pube found himself at home
His parents left him all alone
The pizza boxes of his heart
Empty before they start.

He said to me how can I know
That he's the child of a hoe
I said it's written
All over your face.

He came to classes I visit
Asked what is love?
Do I miss it?
I said wherever you find it
It probably already is.

{Chorus}
I slipped
He slumped
I bummed a bump
We woke up cold
And I said I'm stumped
He said don't think
I said fine. I'll see you tomorrow

Class resumed September 8th
I eyed him up when he came in late
He passed me a note that read
I'd love to meet you in your own bed.

I thought I'm way too old for this
He's not 18. Don't he get the gist
I said our ages, they don't fit.

He said I am mature for my age
I said you don't know you cannot gage
You only know other kids your age.

{Chorus}

He's in my daughter's cooking class
Wearing an apron slung low on his ass
I thought Wouldn't it be fine
For us to leave and change our minds?

He said, I don't know.
That don't sound great
But me and pre-pube,
we found ourselves loving
and coveting the same Lord.

Lord, lord, lord, lord. News made it
all the way back home
Hubby said I left the kids alone
I said how could I love a 12 year-old boy?

{Chorus}

I'll see you tomorrow
You little chalkboard of a boy
Chalkboard as a toy
Break my heart, you boy.
Leave it on the sidewalk.
You fucking boys are all the same.
Oh, all the same.

-Rebecca