Mother’s Ruin

I had the bizarre experience the other day of being vetted by the mother of one of my collaborative partners, who seemed quite bemused to meet me in the flesh and find there is no romantic arrangement between us whatsoever. I write the lyrics, he records them. End of. This was the poetic aftermath:

Just thought I’d check you out
I worry for my son
You know he gets about
But never sticks with one

So I must do my best
As parent to my child
To sort through what is left
And stop him running wild

You seem a nice, young thing
Perhaps a little old
To be a one-time fling
Remaining pert and bold

Yet I don’t understand
You’re really not his type
There’s something underhand
I’m starting to dislike

I cannot fathom why
He still wants you kept close
When cuter girls and guys
Are thrown out over toast

Just how would you define
The nature of your part
My boy’s not yours, but mine
I hold keys to his heart

So I can lock it shut
To keep my precious boy
Far from the latest slut –
Temptations of a toy

I’m not sure what to feel
About this odd affair
You have no sex-appeal
And yet he seems to care

That I should not offend
Nor even entertain
Such notions of girlfriend
In everything but name

I guess you’re not so bad
The words are pretty cool
So sorry I seem mad
I sometimes act the fool

But promise me, my dear
Whatever else you send
Just so we both are clear
He’s mine until the end

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