There's a lump in my stomach, like a giant tumor
a little baby of fat with podgey movements
so i'll start the abortion tomorrow
because i don't want to feel you
over tables of food
and i don't want to kiss you
with saliva like lard
lunch is what i slot on at the circus
and go to the hall of mirrors
just to look distorted
i pick up some richmonds
because the girls who smoke them never seem to have babies
i want to smoke so much the tar drips round my teeth
and locks them together
so it's too hard to eat
the thinner i get
the more they love me just as i am
but my baby seems to just grow into a man
punching and kicking
but my milk's all dried up
and i shit out of nothing
the toilet's my teacup
the ashtray's my plate
i want to smoke so much i don't need to eat
be as thin as a string of smoke
just before the fag goes out
with a horse voice
so i can't even shout
to tell my friends they've gone the wrong colour
because it's brain-freeze all the time
and there's so much hair in the drain
but the baby's still there
crying and kicking
because i can't get rid of it right
and all the food that impregnated me
dances round me day and night
I could be the best little girl in the world
if only i got my thighs
as thin as my ankles
but every time i think i'm doing better
my veins jut get fatter
and i just get big boned
rooms just get bigger
like they don't want to touch
the fat scum in their bellies
how could my mother
of carried such a heffer
around for nine months
without looking inhuman?
they say my tights are like trousers
and maybe that's be good
if they were a smaller size to begin with
and all my friends aren't thinner than me
and that makes me happy
to be like the baby of the group
and they all want to look after me
but i can't wait till the end
when all of my friends
say what a beautiful abortion
that slim fast did.