Incubator

 

guess you could say i’m not exactly
maternal, something’s growing inside
me and i call it a tumour, baby.

attached to my organs, like a
tick or a tapeworm, feeds
courtesy should let me deflate
the leech, eech, eech.

i’ll stick in my thumb
and pull out the plum
i’ll stick in my thumb
and pull out my son.

oh, can’t make me
i’m not an incubator
oh, oh, oh, can’t catch
me to plant your seed.

there are men who will hunt me
hypnotise me with love
so i will show less resistance
to their life-stealing baby gun.

sometimes it’s depressing 
and it gets me down 
to know my reason for being 
is to be an oven one day.

i’m not one, i will run
i’m not one, i’m no fun.

oh, can’t make me
i’m not an incubator
oh, oh, oh, can’t catch
me to plant your seed.

oh, can’t make me
i’m not a baby maker
oh, oh, oh, can’t catch
me to plant your seed.

i need every little drop of life
if i’ve got to live this life
i can’t spare a drop of life
i need it to live this life.