I used to blame her for the problems of the world.
Held her responsible for my pain and cursed her.
If I were in her shoes, I said singing the blues,
I would have definitely done better than she did.

My disobedient mother and her mind of her own,
was a derelict before her time.
She thought she knew better than her very own Creator
and pulled off history’s first and second crime.

One simple request did G‑d have for Mother Earth,
that the fruit should taste like the tree.
But in her careless haste and disregard about taste
she made the bark as bitter as can be.

Now fruits ripen, rot and fall like my own bones and flesh
While the tree stands strong and eternal

Death of the body was meant to be a prize in Mother Earth’s eyes
Then mischief became synonymous with maternal

Oh, tempt-able mother Eve, to her man she was meant to cleave
Picking berries and sashaying through an ethereal paradise

Only one simple rule and she broke it like a fool
Now eating the forbidden is the collective female vice

When I grow up and have kids of my own,
a better mother I surely will be
I’ll find time to give more attention, just to mention
One of the ways my mother is inferior to me

But I am mother earth with my own idea of worth
And I gave birth to myself, I am Eve in an upheaval

Tempted by the food, seduced by a lewd piece of chocolate cake
on the counter of good and evil

Distracted by distractions, breathing heavy through contractions
In the daily grind I’ve lost sight of my neglected kin

So I no longer blame her, I love her and I thank her
For I am her and I will rectify her sin