I Still Live With My Mom

Can't wait for August
I'll go hiking with my friends,
Drag my sister along
We'll say goodbye to the July cold
That'll be a great time to bond
Out in the wild
Wish I was homeless
Should anyone ask “I still live with my mom” I’ll say
A cheeky smile on my face
The only roof over my head was the shade of the trees
I’ll lie on leaves and be kept warm by a blanket of stars
I wanna be a drifter, a man living out of a bag
That I’m always on the move to new sights and scenery
I wish I was a handyman – a jack of all trades
Not stationed in some office – like a someone out on parole
So that I only work to get by – not slaving away
Trying to make ends meet, paying ridiculous undying bills
I’d probably get to till the earth with my bare hands
I’d love that – To tend to mother earth
Can't wait to fall in love
I'd take her out for picnics and mountain hikes
The only wingman who has my back is dear mother earth
Out in the wild where the air is clean and birds in cheer sing
With beauty all round she’s bound to be at ease
Our hearts can be one while the rest of us is refreshed
I'll fall asleep - my head on her lap as she reads to me
Or sings in her soothing voice
I'll propose to her amidst the Cheers of the baboons
And right on the spot where she says yes I'll build a shrine
I'll plant a tree and a fence around it
I'm tired of the urban life
I can't stand not breathing
Can’t take one more puff of those toxic fumes
Or have my breath taken away by those aerosols & perfumes
I wanna hear my thoughts, not the beeps and hoots
I need me a steady heartbeat
One that can lull my kids to sleep
Not a heart always racing or taking risky leaps
I'll go biking with my sons
Take my daughter out to pick flowers
I’ll teach them how to be one with nature
And hope they love it as much as I do
So I’ll have to stay in school
Make something of myself
So I can one day own a farm
A piece of land in the middle of nowhere
There I’ll build a home
Can't wait to be old and have nowhere to go
But sit on the front lawn and watch my garden blossom
Rocking back and forth on a rocking chair
Yeah, my old lady will probably be knitting sweaters
I hope some of my kids stay back and tend to the garden
One day I’ll die and be buried
Then my body will be one with the earth
On my tombstone let it say
“Here lies a guy, who still lives with his mom”
Yeah, I’ll be one with dear mother nature.

Brian Mwangi