Late for My Wedding
It's two hours past noon
Mamma's got the labour pains
But baby's born past midnight
How patiently mother strains
Baby's quick to grow
In size but slow
To walk the talk
And talk the talk
Fast forward
Age three and a half
He poos, picks it up and
Ooh.. what a laugh!
It's eight in the morning
And I'm still on my bed
One more time and you're fired
My lady boss to me said
Traffic lights changed
But my car's still standing
Boy at this rate
I'm gonna be late for my wedding
