Flying Duck Theory

You’re so suburban
You’re so semi-detached
You never see no point
You don’t ever relax
You get your instructions from a voice on the radio
You look out your window
Stare at the door
There’s three flying ducks
Nailed to the wall
Pay an anesthetic from a voice on the radio
The Flying Duck Theory is all very well
But it’s hard to keep your head in a disposable world
The kids are screaming
They want their mom
The old man’s been drinking
He wants a bit of fun
Music to screw by from a tune on the radio
Oh what’s in the future?
What’s in it for you?
Breed another brat?
Well, it’s something to do
Maternity advice from a voice on the radio