What Ya Gonna Be?

This poem was inspired by my 17 year old daughter complaining 
about people asking her this stupid question.. 
(It is a song now - hence the chorus)

WHAT YA GONNA DO GIRL WHAT YA GONNA BE?
 WILL YOU GET A JOB OR GO TO UNIVERSITY?
 WHAT YA GONNA BE GIRL WHAT YA GONNA DO?
 YOU’D BETTER MAKE YER MIND UP SO WE CAN PLAN FOR YOU
  
 Well… I might be a master baker, join the Navy, join the Quakers
 I might be an undertaker, sombre and serene
 I might serve yer toast and beans, or operate upon yer spleen
 I will play for England in the Ladies Rugby Team
  
 I’ll be a clever scientist or I could be your analyst
 Perhaps I’ll be a Naturist – naked, wild and free
 Or I might be a teacher who, leaves and then goes back to school
 I'll teach yer kids to count in twos and read their ABCs
  
 I might be a photographer and then a choreographer,
 I will join an orchestra and play the big bassoon
 I might become a ramble-er, or a crafty gamble-er
 Or maybe just a layabout and lie in bed ‘til noon
  
 WHAT YA GONNA DO GIRL WHAT YA GONNA BE?
 WILL YOU GET A JOB OR GO TO UNIVERSITY?
 WHAT YA GONNA BE GIRL WHAT YA GONNA DO?
 YOU’D BETTER MAKE YER MIND UP SO WE CAN PLAN FOR YOU
  
 I’ll tile yer bathroom, paint yer hall, I’ll build you a lovely wall
 Handy with me bag o’ tools, I will be a builder
 I may decide to up and go, and run off with the gypsies-o
 I’ll tell yer fortune if you care to cross me palm with silver
  
 I might write a book or two, cut yer keys and mend yer shoes
 I’ll have seven babies who, were all conceived in sin
 Then I will busk upon the street, as coins are tossed around me feet
 A tambourine to keep the beat, I’ll play my mandolin