Waiting in the Kitchen
Do you think that I don't care as I work here in the kitchen
Listening to my baby's screams?
Do you think that I am heartless; without a mother's love
That my nights aren't plagued by horrid dreams?
Do you think I find it easy to cook my husband's tea -
Chops, two veg, apple pie and cream -
To put the plate before him, and not smash it on his head
And let the world know that life's not what it seems?
Oh, I'm waiting in the kitchen while he fucks my baby
Waiting in the kitchen getting ready for a meal
Every now and then I run my thumb along the blade
Of my mother's old butcher's knife
And wonder how easy it would be to take his life
To watch his red blood flowing all across the floor
Just like a miscarriage, only so much more
And I wonder, yes I wonder, how that would make me feel
The man who came back from the war is not the same one
Who left me with a cheery wave
His appetites are different; it's as if he were a beast
He's forgotten how civilised couples behave!
Well I was brought up genteel; I'm not that sort of girl
Let him bluster, and rant and rave
Unnatural sex acts with my mouth and anus
Were not in the marriage vows that I gave
So, I'm waiting in the kitchen while he fucks my baby
Covering my tears with tortured laughter
My baby isn't old enough to know that what he's doing
Isn't really right
So it's not going to keep him awake at night
And I'm clinging to the hope that some fine day
That the fog that grips his father's mind will melt away
And we'll all live, yes we'll all live, happily ever-after
When my baby is returned, I will smother him in kisses
And hold him to me very tight
I'll sing his favourite song, and stroke his clawing fingers
And let him know that everything is alright -
That I don't think there's something wrong with him
For easing his father's plight
He's just a little boy in a world not of his making
And I hope that soon he can step into the light
Oh, I'm waiting in the kitchen while my husband fucks my baby
Trying to shut my ears against the noise
Hoping that my daughter who's due home any minute
Won't bring her little friends to play
Somehow I don't think I could handle that today
My daughter now is safe - my son he pays the ransom
And I cling onto the fact that this man's so smart and handsome
That when he's sane, Oh when he's sane again
He'll make the best possible father for the boy