Mrs Mac

Plucked from the nest, body scrubbed bare
Led gently down the narrow stairs

The grinding of teeth, scraping of feet
Pulling hard against the empty streets

But here will be learned the lessons of life
Feels like something is dying
Father waves goodbye
I just want to run home to cry

Tiny I shrink, huge they grow
Ugly kids in duffle coats
Plimsolls made from tar and rope
Mouths washed out with carbolic soap

Mrs Mac, Mrs Mac, answer back
And you'll get more than a whack!

In my shorts, on my knees
Swallowing liver, kidneys and greens
Tears fall onto my plate
Mrs Mac's boot is in my face

Stocky, short tempered, spiteful and mean
She's a fierce fucking fighting machine

She'll fuck you up, she'll grind you down
It'll cost you a fortune to figure it out

Mrs Mac Mrs Mac Mrs Mac Mrs Mac
Mrs Mac Mrs Mac Mrs Mac Mrs Mac
Mrs Mac Mrs Mac Mrs Mac Mrs Mac
Mrs Mac Mrs Mac Mrs Mac