Sometimes he wish he could diffuse
And be everywhere at same time
So he keeps embarking on a trip
An endless trip for an ultimate search
Good life, a wife and knife
To slaughter and kill for his child.
Too foolish to rest all day
He has got to cast a net
My knife here, my wife there
My wife this, my wife that
Up and down with his knife.
Out, to solve the puzzle of life
At the back of the cab
He sits a gape: starring
At the fast free hippie world
‘Am I in charge or in chains’ ?
‘Family man’; his pocket replies.
Such a beautiful thing to be god
Creating a life of his like,
He called a child by a name
An updated task for his knife
First a wife now another child
He is a family man please don’t ask.
Before child, he was too young to die
After the child
‘I haven’t trained my kids’: he says
First to leave; the last to return
He is a family man,
Let him continue the hunt.