The Wine Mommy

[Verse 1]
Used to be Friday meant tacos and cartoons
Now it’s “don’t talk to Mommy, she’s had a week”
Same glass on the counter, like part of the décor
Lipstick on the rim, kids playing hide‑and‑seek
You pour “just a little” while the oven burns
I’m scraping off dinner, you’re scrolling your phone
You laugh too loud at the screen in your hand
But you miss every joke in your own home
[Chorus]
She’s the Wine Mommy, spinning in the kitchen
Red teeth, late speech, love on intermission
Kids in the hallway, watching her unravel
Dancing with a bottle like it’s her ticket out of travel
Wine Mommy, says she’s “just surviving”
But every drop’s a line that we’re all driving
I miss the woman who would look me in the eye
Not the Wine Mommy waving our good years goodbye
[Verse 2]
You call it “self‑care” while the homework stacks
Slurred praise, sharp words, then a sudden hug
You promise tomorrow you’ll read them to sleep
Tomorrow never comes at the end of a jug
We used to split the nights, now I split the fights
You blame the long days, say I don’t understand
But the kids learn fast which clink means run
They flinch when they see that bottle in your hand
[Chorus]
She’s the Wine Mommy, spinning in the kitchen
Red teeth, late speech, love on intermission
Kids in the hallway, watching her unravel
Dancing with a bottle like it’s her ticket out of travel
Wine Mommy, says she’s “just surviving”
But every drop’s a line that we’re all driving
I miss the woman who would look me in the eye
Not the Wine Mommy waving our good years goodbye
[Bridge]
Remember movie nights on the bedroom floor? (hey)
Now it’s empty cans by the bedroom door
You say “I’m fun, I’m fine, I’m free” (ooh)
But the joke lands hard on them and me
[Chorus]
She’s the Wine Mommy, spinning in the kitchen
Red teeth, late speech, love on intermission
Kids in the hallway, watching her unravel
Dancing with a bottle like it’s her ticket out of travel
Wine Mommy, says she’s “just surviving”
But every drop’s a line that we’re all driving
I miss the woman who would look me in the eye
Please, Wine Mommy, let that version of you die

dance, Up-tempo EDM-pop with male vocals; bright sidechain synths and a rubbery bassline under a four-on-the-floor kick. Verses stay tight and rhythmic with plucked keys and dry vocal; chorus explodes with stacked gang shouts, filtered risers, and a sticky, chantable hook. Bridge strips back to kick, sub, and a distant pad before a final, euphoric drop that leans bittersweet.