I thank you all the women,
For this freedom of my life.
I know you fought for years,
So I wouldn’t have to be the wife.
I wish that you could understand,
That you weren’t ashamed of me,
But the cooking and the cleaning,
And the singing set me free.
I want to wear the apron,
I want a home to make.
I want to knead the French bread,
And I want to learn to bake.
I want to sweep the floors,
And change the sheets in every room.
I want to dance in dresses round’ the house,
And wear perfume.
I want a tall dark husband,
To make love to in the night.
I want his whispers in my ear
Till the soft dawn breaks in light.
I want a baby girl to coo too,
In my wooden rocking chair.
I want to love her, be a mother,
And braid her long brown curly hair.
I want to teach her in the garden,
I want to show her all I know.
I want to hold her in my arms,
And kiss her softly on the nose.
I want to be there all the seasons,
In the spring the fall, the snow.
I want to watch her walk and talk,
Sing, and dance, and smile and grow.
I want to see as all the boys,
Knock sheepish at our door,
And she kindly smiles and waves them in,
Like no woman who came before.