lets all sit happily on the brown, coke/coffee-stained sofa

lets pretend to be the happy family we are not

and watch the sitcoms that normal people love so much

let the tender mother sit her baby girl in her lap

let the proud father hustle along with his model boy

lets ignore the cigarette ashes that make the mother cry

lets ignore the cigarette ashes that refuse to back the monsters down

lets watch the tv ads and go buy like crazy that stuff that's able to kill us all

lets all laugh at the way the dog rolls over and asks for his favourite dog food

and we will all clap as the birdie can finally recover and fly

and we will all cry as the lost daughter reunites with her found family

happy that this isn't our case, because we love each other

look! we appear to be the family. so perfect i want to vomit

why don't we all watch those filthy cigarette ashes

as the eyeless father keeps reproducing it

like a cancer waiting to see how can it fit

see the skeleton walk behind thee

see the cigarette ashes that come and cry free

the golden girl with those beautiful curls and doe eyes

that strong and healthy boy that will be in the big leagues, in his father's lap he will forever sit

the spectacular and fit mother, with time for everything

the working father, bringing the money into the house, the typical macho that will defend everything for nothing

we are just sitting on the brown, coke/coffee-stained sofa

happily watching the afternoon sitcoms

and the re-runs of happy family

in a house that has no front door and smells of rotten onions with some delicate touches of urine here and there

(it seems that the perfect and fit mother forgot to let max out)!

and there are no cabinets in the kitchen, and the fridge just holds some leftover mold

and the rats keep scurrying to and fro, making the rickety chairs their eternal nests

where their descendants will live better than my so bloody perfect family

that has plastered fake smiles all over their porcelain faces, but we are happy

but everything's alright

'cause we are sitting on the brown, coke/coffee-stained sofa

trying to pretend to be something we're--oh so definitely not!

with the tender mother caressing her baby girl's cheek and letting her know she's forever loved

with the ideal father showing his perfect boy off

hiding his cigarette ashes as the priest hides his sin

black cigarette ashes

black cigarette ashes

bringing down a house

blacking out the fabulous spouse

diciembre 5, 05