Living Off Your Catholic Grandma

All I hear is acts and recovering.

We can do without all the mothering.

But you're not the one who is suffering.

You're living off your Catholic grandma.

You had your ninety-six week pass

To keep you in the middle class.

Now the greatest generation saves your ass.

You're living off your Catholic grandma.

It's time.

Lord. Lord, please take your time.

But you keep dropping all your dimes

Keeping an eye on the straight line.

Yes, sir!

You like her and she likes you

For a weekend rendezvous.

But she might not understand what you're going through.

Don't tell her that you're moochin' off Grandma.

Treat her to the Lilith Fair

Or the finest frutti di mare

At some overpriced bistro near Union Square.

They never could do it like Grandma.

It's time.

Lord. Lord, please take your time.

But you'll be dropping all your dimes

Keeping abreast of every straight line.

The honeymoon in Bali was the giveaway.

And you always knew that the princess was far gone.

So you'll keep defending every single rule you're bending.

But don't come home disappointed in the end.

Old Peggy stroked her beads at night.

And pulled in her purse strings in so tight

Until her last hour and the final rites.

So don't you go knockin' on Grandma.

Pop-Pops took that early fall.

After forty years of being driven up the wall.

She had him strapped to a chair watching Lucille Ball.

But what would you do without Grandma?

To you she rarely was unkind.

A bit shortsighted, later blind.

Save your ramble for Judgement Day.

You'll be on your knees anyway.

It's time, boy.

Go on, boy and take your time.

You'll be watching all your dimes.

Knowing there never was a straight line.

Yes, sir!

©2014, 2015

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