I've Got Better Things to Do
Linda Allen
Why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up puzzles to fit into boxes
Papers and peanuts and soggy galoshes
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could sail far away for a year and a day
In a boat of shimmering blue
To an island I know where the warm breezes blow
And I know just what I would do
I'd put up an umbrella on that glorious beach
Right next to the NO CHILDREN sign
And I'd read three whole books from beginning to end
And more, if I'd feel so inclined
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up socks and a moldy old bear
Finding two months worth of old underwear
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could give of my talents to challenge the makers
Of war -- I would march, I would sing
I would write twenty letters, or then, even better
I'd give all the generals a ring
And I'd talk to them nicely and ask them politely
To give up their nuclear toys
But if they won't say that they'll put them away
Well it's "time out" for those ornery boys
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up things that I can't recognize
Covered with fungus and lazy fruit flies
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could start up a workshop for mothers who've not stood up
Straight since the youngest was born
We'll do role-plays and cry, learn a mantra, and sigh
"Born to stand" -- to repeat, every morn
And then for the test we'll invite in a guest
To drop socks in a heap on the floor
Any woman who sweats and then trembles and heads
For the socks must repeat the whole course
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Screaming and bribing and pleading my lot
But will you pick up? No, you will not
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
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I've Got Better Things to Do
Linda Allen
Why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up puzzles to fit into boxes
Papers and peanuts and soggy galoshes
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could sail far away for a year and a day
In a boat of shimmering blue
To an island I know where the warm breezes blow
And I know just what I would do
I'd put up an umbrella on that glorious beach
Right next to the NO CHILDREN sign
And I'd read three whole books from beginning to end
And more, if I'd feel so inclined
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up socks and a moldy old bear
Finding two months worth of old underwear
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could give of my talents to challenge the makers
Of war -- I would march, I would sing
I would write twenty letters, or then, even better
I'd give all the generals a ring
And I'd talk to them nicely and ask them politely
To give up their nuclear toys
But if they won't say that they'll put them away
Well it's "time out" for those ornery boys
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up things that I can't recognize
Covered with fungus and lazy fruit flies
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could start up a workshop for mothers who've not stood up
Straight since the youngest was born
We'll do role-plays and cry, learn a mantra, and sigh
"Born to stand" -- to repeat, every morn
And then for the test we'll invite in a guest
To drop socks in a heap on the floor
Any woman who sweats and then trembles and heads
For the socks must repeat the whole course
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Screaming and bribing and pleading my lot
But will you pick up? No, you will not
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
Linda Allen
Why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up puzzles to fit into boxes
Papers and peanuts and soggy galoshes
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could sail far away for a year and a day
In a boat of shimmering blue
To an island I know where the warm breezes blow
And I know just what I would do
I'd put up an umbrella on that glorious beach
Right next to the NO CHILDREN sign
And I'd read three whole books from beginning to end
And more, if I'd feel so inclined
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up socks and a moldy old bear
Finding two months worth of old underwear
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could give of my talents to challenge the makers
Of war -- I would march, I would sing
I would write twenty letters, or then, even better
I'd give all the generals a ring
And I'd talk to them nicely and ask them politely
To give up their nuclear toys
But if they won't say that they'll put them away
Well it's "time out" for those ornery boys
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Picking up things that I can't recognize
Covered with fungus and lazy fruit flies
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you
I could start up a workshop for mothers who've not stood up
Straight since the youngest was born
We'll do role-plays and cry, learn a mantra, and sigh
"Born to stand" -- to repeat, every morn
And then for the test we'll invite in a guest
To drop socks in a heap on the floor
Any woman who sweats and then trembles and heads
For the socks must repeat the whole course
Oh, why do I spend my life caught in this storm and strife
Screaming and bribing and pleading my lot
But will you pick up? No, you will not
I've got better things to do than to pick up after you