Another suburban family morning,
Grandmother screaming at the wall.
We have to shout above the din of our Rice Krispies;
We can’t hear anything at all.
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 heartache he can take.
Many miles away
Something crawls from the slime
At the bottom of a dark Scottish lake.

Another industrial 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
But all he ever thinks to do is watch.
And every single meeting with his so-called superior
Is a humiliating kick in the crotch.
Many miles away,
Something crawls to the surface
Of a dark Scottish loch.

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 and stares alone into the distance;
He knows that something somewhere has to break.
He sees the family home now looming in his headlights
The pain upstairs that makes his eyeballs ache.
Many miles away,
There’s a shadow on the door
Of a cottage on the shore
Of a dark Scottish lake
Many miles away, many miles away.





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