ramblingwoman4's JumboTweets
- @druminggirl @drummersammi @thescript The woes of a Scriptettes mother..
An Ode to My Scriptette Daughter
Let me paint a picture, I’m sure it will ring the bell,
If you are the Mother of a certain type of girl.
You may remember when she was smaller
(And let’s face it you were taller)
When you were the entire world, in her eyes.
Then one day quite unexpected
She found Itunes and defected
From Mommy centric emotions
And transferred all her devotions
To three rather funny looking Irish guys
Just last week she was twitted by a G
(It Makes no sense at all to me)
But Her squealing frightened the cat
And her flaying arms almost knocked me flat
Apparently the most amazing IN HER LIFE….EVER
Don’t get me wrong, I think their very good
Their poignant lyrics are understood.
But I have Nothing to compare
Because I’m not a Millionaire
(Well we do Break Even) but almost never
Her father (The man who cant be moved)
Is certain things will be improved
If she would listen to Pink Floyd
Because most of them have died (Stretching it I know)
And lets face it spirits just cant tweet
But she is determined to hold her ground
Her soundtrack has been found
For The First Time she is dreaming
Strumming, drumming and believing
Though We Cry when she claims busking is the way
I guess the best we can wish for, in this uncertain world
Is that Science and Faith can help her fly her flag unfurled
And that my Mommy time deprivation
Wont lead to Six Degrees of Separation
Though I not sure I really have much say
If You See Me Now, just pass the wine
She’s happy, and having a good time
I don’t have to get up at dawn to feed her
She tweets till midnight but she’s no Bieber
And I suppose it is something that we all do.
And lets face, only boring things stay the same
She’s busy working on her Hall of Fame.
I now have time for my own fan girling
Albeit wobblier and slightly more disturbing.
Brace yourself Bono, I’m coming for you.
- @drumminggirl @drummersammie @thescript The woes of a Scriptettes mother - An Ode to My fan girl
Let me paint a picture, I’m sure it will ring the bell,
If you are the Mother of a certain type of girl.
You may remember when she was smaller
(And let’s face it you were taller)
When you were the entire world, in her eyes.
Then one day quite unexpected
She found Itunes and defected
From Mommy centric emotions
And transferred all her devotions
To three rather funny looking Irish guys
Just last week she was twitted by a G
(It Makes no sense at all to me)
But Her squealing frightened the cat
And her flaying arms almost knocked me flat
Apparently the most amazing IN HER LIFE….EVER
Don’t get me wrong, I think their very good
Their poignant lyrics are understood.
But I have Nothing to compare
Because I’m not a Millionaire
(Well we do Break Even) but almost never
Her father (The man who cant be moved)
Is certain things will be improved
If she would listen to Pink Floyd
Because most of them have died (Stretching it I know)
And lets face it spirits just cant tweet
But she is determined to hold her ground
Her soundtrack has been found
For The First Time she is dreaming
Strumming, drumming and believing
Though We Cry when she claims busking is the way
I guess the best we can wish for, in this uncertain world
Is that Science and Faith can help her fly her flag unfurled
And that my Mommy time deprivation
Wont lead to Six Degrees of Separation
Though I not sure I really have much say
If You See Me Now, just pass the wine
She’s happy, and having a good time
I don’t have to get up at dawn to feed her
She tweets till midnight but she’s no Bieber
And I suppose it is something that we all do.
And lets face, only boring things stay the same
She’s busy working on her Hall of Fame.
I now have time for my own fan girling
Albeit wobblier and slightly more disturbing.
Brace yourself Bono, I’m coming for you.
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