Write a song Write a song, they say Get it out on paper But I'm lost for words And I haven't got a pen I'm running out of paper I'm a woman now But I want mamma's arms The tears come out Can't face that you're not around Running out of paper now, I'm kinda feeling low Stick it in a voice note and let my mind go I'm stuck inside a universe no money and sleep Cabin fever from doing the same old thing Trying to escape my thought cycles upon thought cycles Trying to be spiritual, remembering my crystals But resorting to red wine and early nights And new clothes I'm a woman now But I want mamma's arms (Feeling like I'm stuck in a world full of lies There is no ground, falling through the sky) The tears come out Can't face that you're not around (Gotta face the facts to get myself back In a race with myself going round the track) Write a song Write a song, they say Get it out on paper But I'm lost for words And I haven't got a pen I'm running out of paper I'm a woman now But I want mamma's arms The tears come out Can't face that you're not around Write a song