ambulance ride my empty
road slide into the district
take back the emergence of
suburban insanity creeping
in the darkness like
entries on an invisible ledger
your finger grips the edges
bare your finger tips bleed
but the morality of fibre
and eating raw cement
keep you stranded
after playing the banjo
the man had spoken the magic verses
now there is no climbing out of this
a tree fell on her and he wanders home pissed
passing a man with a wounded keg
there, out leaks the wine for tonight
how he managed to puncture it so many times
he said he fell over and it was not his fault
but he still was not popular
the man sat at the kitchen table
light blind from the night before
the baby was sleeping thank the blessed lord
and his wife was cooking pancakes in the kitchen of course
The perfect scene of domestic agony
but a fly found a way in under the door
to fill the air with evil diseases
so who is to blame when he sneezes?
Who was it that let that filth in?
He was about to teach them a lesson
when the lights went out