They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They will 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-fashion styles hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-sterm
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.