All About That Mess

(with apologies to Meghan Trainor)

Because you know I’m all about that mess

‘Bout that mess, Hey rebels!

I’m all ‘bout that mess, ‘bout that mess, Hey rebels!

I’m all ‘bout that mess, ‘bout that mess, Hey rebels!

I’m all ‘bout that mess, ‘bout that mess

Yeah it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no Martha Stew-

Art, don’t want to decorate it like I’m “supposed to” do

‘Cause I got a junk room, out of storage space

All the right junk in all the wrong places

I got the magazines, I’m like my own thrift shop

And every inch of it is cluttered

From the bottom to the top

Yeah, my momma she told me they don’t give a housework prize

She says, don’t worry ‘bout it more than if we were guys

You know I won’t be no domestic pre-feminist hausfrau,

So, if that’s what you’re into then go ahead and get out now

I’m bringing duty back

Go ahead and tell them neat freak bitches Hey

No, I’m just playing I know you think you’re slobs,

But these aren’t women’s jobs,

Everybody delegate them from the basement to the shop

Yeah, my momma she told me don’t tolerate lazy guys

She says, don’t date men who are little boys in disguise

You know I won’t be no scullery, trying to do it all

So, if that’s what you’re into then hang up and please don’t call

---