Old Fear of Father

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