SMOL

  • Id:

    10e3d27ad4a1fcead00a1fead6fabb773718696ee6e5f62e6be9715e251f7cd6
    safe

  • Prompt:

    Every time I need to die one of my kids need something. I’m 95 years old and on my last breath, but my son says we are out of fruit roll ups and he has no clean underwear. Female singer in The style of Patsy Cline

  • Image:

    Last Breath, Fruit Roll-Ups

  • Description:

    The image features a female singer in the style of Patsy Cline, standing on stage and holding a microphone. She appears to be in the middle of a song, with her mouth open, and her eyes closed, fully immersed in the performance. The scene is set in a dark room, adding to the dramatic atmosphere of the moment. The singer's emotional expression and the intensity of her performance create a captivating and memorable image.

  • Songs:

    👈 better

  • Lyrics:

    Title: Last Breath, Fruit Roll-Ups
Tags: Country, Torch-Lounge, Female Vocals

[Verse 1]
Ninety-five years and I'm gaspin' for air,
Rockin' chair moans in this old parlor's glare.
Been ready to go, Lord, I'm long overdue,
But Junior comes shoutin', \"Mama, where's the fruit?\"

[Chorus]
Every time I need to die, there's a crisis in the hall,
Clean underwear's missin', there's jelly on the wall.
I see the light, then I hear that little plea,
\"Mama, don't go yet, come wipe my knee.\"

[Verse 2]
I tried to drift off, find peace and let go,
But someone needs dinner or stepped on a Lego.
My heart skips a beat as I reach for the sky,
Then I hear, \"Mama, did you wash my tie?\"

[Chorus]
Every time I need to die, there's a crisis in the hall,
A missing sock emergency, a crayon on the wall.
Heaven might be callin', but my boy calls louder still,
\"Mama, don't go yet, I need you to refill.\"

[Bridge]
Oh Patsy would croon in a satin-lined dream,
But I’m stuck in this house with a laundry machine.
Life won’t let me go, not without a fight,
Guess the Lord's waitin’ till I set things right.

[Refrain]
So I fold one more shirt, sighin' deep inside,
Every good mama takes one last stride.
Till the fruit roll-ups run out, and they stand on their own,
I'll sing this tune from my twilight home.

[Outro]
[Fade Out and End]