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lirik lagu sore thumb – the woolly mammoth project

i always figured that i would grow old with a child in tow, maybe two or three
did i simply outgrow that dream
or did that lie outrun me? (faster and faster)

so there’s no rattle, there’s no white dress
certainly no gender reveal festivities
am i sticking out like a sore thumb
as i throw up my finger up to what i’m supposed to be?

i swear if another single person tells me that a baby looks good on me
i’ll shave off my hair and i’ll burn all my clothes and i’ll set fire to my godd-mn ovaries

appreciate the sentiment, but this beeswax isn’t yours
generation over each, there’s just more and different doors
if we turn a different latch, find a different match, sew another patch
strike a little match, contract a little rash, never even tracking the scores

back in the day you limited the ways that you distinguish
acceptable from exceptional from dreary to downright sad
it was a formula, simply charted, we live in a mish mash
seed stash, open-ended t–th gnash of paisley and plaid

i swear if another single person tells me that a baby looks good on me
i’ll shave off my hair and i’ll burn all my clothes and i’ll set fire to my godd-mn ovaries

ideas aren’t cast out, just viewed in a different light
our sieves let through rainbows, yours blocks out old plights
tap another keg, eat another leg, birth another peg
skin another tag, dog another wag, always we’re tracking new flights

it’s true it’s not all marshmallow fluff in a flute gl-ss
drinks served ignited while hurricanes rage past
serve up another set, cats to the vet, live at the met
beam with ka-tet, no boba fett, still you may call me an outcast

i always figured that i would grow old with a man in tow, wed in my late ‘20s
now i’ve outgrown that pre-written narrative
or did that lie just outrun me? (faster and faster)

so there’s no rattle, there’s no white picket fence
certainly no gender reveal festivities
am i sticking out like a sore thumb
as i throw up my finger up to what i’m supposed to be?

i swear if another single person tells me that a baby looks so good on me
i’ll shave off my hair and i’ll burn all my clothes and i will set fire to my godd-mn ovaries
i will set fire to my godd-mn ovaries

- the woolly mammoth project

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