The Police Synchronicity II

Another suburban morning
Grandmother screaming at the wall

We have to shout above the din of our Rice Crispies
We can't hear anything at all
Mother chants her litany of boredom and frustrations
But we know all her suicides are fake

Daddy only stares into the distance
There's only so much more that 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 on 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 lake

Another working day has ended
Only the rush hour hell to face
Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes