| There are all types and sizes for what it is worth
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| Bitches and witches and scrubbers and worse
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| But they’re loved and adored and have a load to bare
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| To be feeling, to emphasis but mostly to care
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| In the womb we begin and are fed and deformed
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| But it’s time for eviction and when we are born
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| But now there’s a mother and a new life to be
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| And the child doesn’t know the difference between she and me
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| And maybe from birth, Mother Nature becomes Mother Earth
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| In the arms of a woman lie the lost and the found
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| It’s the arms of a woman or the world turning round
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| Could the arms of a woman be the last, be the first?
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| So could God be a woman for the whole universe?
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| And maybe we never forgive for having being let go
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| But we always need our mummies, their love and their home
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| But there is no perfect mother, eventually she’ll fail
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| She’ll love us and leave us, love and leave us again
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| Mythology has Atlas holding up the Earth
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| But it should have been a woman, the bedrock from birth
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| But she’s only human, she’ll have to leave the room
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| It’s painful to learn that life is not a womb
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| And we grow, because of the letting go
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| In the arms of a woman lie the lost and the found
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| It’s the arms of a woman or the world turning round
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| Could the arms of a woman hold the laugh, give the birth?
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| So could God be a woman for the whole universe?
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| The Earth is a she, a nation is a she
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| A ship is a she, carry us over the sea
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| In the arms of a woman lie the lost and the found
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| It’s the arms of a woman or the world turning round
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| Could the arms of a woman be the last, be the first?
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| So could God be a woman for the whole universe?
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| A mother figure is a mother
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| Mother figure of speech
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| Mother figures are there to love and to teach
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| They can be grannies, nannies and others
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| Who are glad to watch over and care
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| She can even be your dad |