Written to help alleviate my wife's frustrations with her sometimes complicated mother.
“The problem’s all inside your head” she said to me.
But frankly she’s the cause of my insanity.
I think I’ll help her in her struggle to be free
There must be fifty ways to kill your mother.
She’s used me simply as a chattel all these years.
I’ve been the butt of all the shouting and the sneers.
But now I’ve hatched a plan to counteract the tears
There must be fifty ways to kill your mother.
Shoot her right in the back, Jack.
Stab her in the face, Grace.
Push her down the stairs, Claire
And set yourself free.
Smash her head with a brick, Nick.
Plug her into the mains, Jane.
Knock her down with a van, Anne
Just listen to me.
She’s always judging, never listening, never wrong.
I’ve taken all her shit for way too fucking long.
But all I’m thinking as I sing my sorry song:
There must be fifty ways to kill your mother.
I ought to stop and try to think constructively.
This list, though fun, is just incriminating me.
But, could I do it with my freedom guaranteed…?!
There must be fifty ways to kill your mother.
Muck about with her pills, Jill.
Turn on all the gas, Cass.
Open one of her veins, Shane.
Just listen to me.
Push her into the Thames, Jen.
Just poison her food, Jude.
Set fire to her bed, Fred
And set yourself free.
And set yourself free.
And set yourself free.