I would like to sing to you dear Mothers a song of the tea

I’d like to tell you how many bridges it could span between the chatter

Because when we have nothing else left we do have the time for tea

//

So why is it that all my tea has gone cold and there’s no one to share even a little with me?

Surely I put the kettle on to boil and left out the bags

I’m sure I sent out the invitations and said I shall be Mother

//

I would like to sing you a song and invite you to tea, but someone stole all my pretty cups and switched the numbers on the gate

So now no one has tea, which is a bother really

I so would have liked to share a cup with you, Mothers