Baby Boom Victoria Wood

Oh God, you know I'm forty odd
I read it in a magazine
Eek squeak, I’m practically antique
And yet I feel about thirteen (well most days)
Oh God, I'm such a barmy sod
I read the tea leaves in my cup
But all that they
Ever seem to say
Is for Christ's sake grow up

Oh flip, I need to get a grip
I’ve never learned to ski or punt (go easy)
Ooh aah, I fasten up me bra
By twizzing it around the front (how sleazy)
For God's sake, give a girl a break
Why am I so insecure?
I could take a header
Into vintage cheddar
And still not be mature

Tee hee, born in fifty three
The middle of the baby boom
Couldn't dance, never had a chance
There was never any bleeding room (quite frankly)
Boo hoo, I'm in a blooming queue
The baby boom is headed west
Well we did the twist
Then we all got pissed
In a tie-dyed granddad vest