With our heads full of gray
by the end of the day,
won’t you pour me a Mapleine tonic?
Lower the shades
on the terms of the trade
And the glare of the barreling comet

my mind is easy.
My mind is easy,
Me and my queasy stomach.

Now here come my failures
assailing me merrily,
caroling stereophonic,
and it’s breaking your heart to see
how far they’ve got to me.
That’s the cornerstone
of ordinary home economics.

We’ve got doctors, and plumbers,
and camps for the summer
to cancel, reschedule, and promise.
I answer the phone,
and make plans, and postpone,
and atone for all of my wrongness and

my mind is easy.
My mind is easy,
though bees besiege my bonnet.

The worry and guilt
and my heels hurry me
up the hill ‘til I keel at the summit.
And this hunger and scarcity,
it just doesn’t seem fair to me,
with all the rest of them
not invested in these home economics.

But I would not be far from you,
I wish not to part from you
and I love you. I want just to show it.
It’s worth any verse
that I may never write,
though it hurts tonight to know it,
but my mind is easy.
My mind is easy
You’re everything that I wanted.

Your laugh and the things that you
say and your soft little
weight in my lap like a rabbit.
And I’ll do anything for you,
but just what do you think I do?
Cue the gramophone!
Leave your momma in the home economics.

If you reckon it’s stifling,
being a housewife in the
guise of your glowing electronics,
you should know there’s no version
of (h)ours that incurred,
nor life that we were promised,

but my mind is easy.
My mind is easy.
I’m only one in a long list

who birth and who nurse
and who serve and return
to the earth with no purchase upon it.
And I cannot tell you no lies.
Children, you cannot sell or buy
what cannot be owned.
That’s the property of home economics.

And I can’t pay my loans
without trading in these home economics!

Notes

Played for the first time at Joanna Newsom's Masonic Lodge concert on May 17th, 2024. Lyrics are the community's best guess until an official recording comes out.