The sting is beginning to slouch.
Settling in my throbbing head,
Mama, when can I just go to bed?
Cali, go clean this,
Don't just whine, never hiss.
All's you know is well,
Yes, mad'am, Cruella Deville.
Don't close your eyes,
The sun is still risen in the skies.
Kids, the kids everywhere.
Come on now, where are the hippies with their peace to share?
No, little child. This fighting, this is not fine.
No matter the day,
No matter the way,
It'll be just as miserable, as the rain in May.
Cruella Deville, stop the orders,
You're stacking up my mentally disorders.
The shrieks, the fighting,
The freaks, the lighting.
How so relevant?
It's under the roof, my only element.
No place to escape,
Orders and folders left over my head to drape.
What's ironic is I have to leave,
My mother says I have a room to clean.