Old Fear of Father - Jesca Hoop

I love my boys more than I love my girl

Try not to show it, she knows like I knew

I have my father’s legs, long kissed with summer

Old fear of Father keeps me in Mother’s mirror

Sing to my boys, back to your own bed, girl

Cold fills the bottle, he’ll get the swaddling and my milk

I have my mother’s gaze, pastures and towers

Soft drawing him near to her down cast severe

Oh, Valerie, Valerie

Know the hand that feeds you

The hand that keeps you

The hand that owns the keys

Keeps you pretty

Don’t look to me to hold you

I shape and mould you

So you can get the ring

While you’re still pretty

Rock-a-bye boys, run along daddy’s girl

You’re blushing youthful dewy bloom cut from my tree

You’ll learn your mother’s game

Seal your reflection for his affection

Now against me, you’ll play

So on it goes, never to trust a girl

All sistren rivals to be expected in his world

Valerie

Know the hand that feeds you

The hand that keeps you

Can put you on the street

At least you’re pretty

Don’t look to me for sweetness

This borrowed dress holds nothing sweet