Stop dreaming of the quiet life
cos it’s the one you’ll never know
and quit running for that runaway bus
cos those rosey days are few
and stop apologising for the things you’ve never done
cos time is short and life is cruel and its up to us to change
This town called Malice
Rows and rows of disused milkfloats
Are dying in the dairy yard
And a hundred lonely housewives clutching milk bottles to their hearts
Hanging out their old love letters
On the line to dry
It’s enough to make you stop believing when the tears come fast and furious
In a town called Malice
Struggle after struggle
year after year
The atmosphere’s a fine blend of ice
I am almost stone cold dead
In a town called Malice
Whole streets belief, in Sundays roast beef
Is dashed against the Co-op
You want to cut down on beer or the kids new gear
It’s a big decision in a town called Malice
The ghost of a steam train echoes down my track
At the moment bound for nowhere
Just going round and round
Playground kids and creaking swings
lost laughter in the breeze
I could go on for hours and I probably will
but I’d sooner put some joy back
In this town called Malice.