Write a song
Write a song, they say
Get it out on paper
But I'm lost for words
And I haven't got a pen
I'm running out of paper

I'm a woman now
But I want mamma's arms
The tears come out
Can't face that you're not around

Running out of paper now, I'm kinda feeling low
Stick it in a voice note and let my mind go
I'm stuck inside a universe no money and sleep
Cabin fever from doing the same old thing
Trying to escape my thought cycles upon thought cycles
Trying to be spiritual, remembering my crystals
But resorting to red wine and early nights
And new clothes

I'm a woman now
But I want mamma's arms

(Feeling like I'm stuck in a world full of lies
There is no ground, falling through the sky)

The tears come out
Can't face that you're not around

(Gotta face the facts to get myself back
In a race with myself going round the track)

Write a song
Write a song, they say
Get it out on paper
But I'm lost for words
And I haven't got a pen
I'm running out of paper

I'm a woman now
But I want mamma's arms
The tears come out
Can't face that you're not around

Write a song