Another suburban family morning. Grandmother screaming at the wall.
We have to shout above din of our Rice Crispies We can't hear anything at Mother chants her litany of boredom and frustration, But we know all her suicides are fake.
Daddy only stares into the distance There's only so much more that he take. Many miles away something crawls from the slime At the bottom of a dark Scottish lake.
Another ugly morning The factory belches filth into the sky. He walks unhindered through the picket lines today, He doesn't think to wonder why. The secretaries pout and preen like cheap tarts in a red light street, all he ever thinks to do is watch. And every single meeting with his so-called superior Is a humiliating kick the crotch. Many miles away something crawls to surface Of a dark Scottish lake.
Another working day has ended. Only the rush hour hell to face. Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes. Contestants in a suicidal race. Daddy grips the wheel stares alone into the He knows that something somewhere has to break. He sees the family home now looming in the headlights, the pain upstairs that makes his eyeballs ache. Many miles away there's a shadow the door Of a cottage on the shore Of a dark Scottish lake...............