We’re the women who dress up to visit our mothers.
We live by our own standards, don’t paint us with your colour.
Blow dry our hair and put on our best dress,
No, it’s not a night out to paint the town red!
We take less care when we go out with our men,
‘Cos our husbands are happy whether we’re 2’s or 10’s.
We’re the women who dress up to visit our mothers,
And you’re the woman who’s burning up because you can’t see the good in another.
To the woman who judges other women by her standards.