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They fuck you up,
your mum and dad.
They may not mean to,
but they do.
They fill you
with the faults they had
And add some extra,
just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands
on misery
to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out
as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.