The tire hit something and skidded you of the edge
lost control across the lanes through the hedge
the car flipped over and went down the carriage way
the wheels still spinning, while the shattered glass fell away
your thoughts say that daddy isn't coming home tonight
but your thoughts can't be heard by the smashing of the headlight
the photographs come tumbling out the glove compartment
memories you kept to look at now lose their attachment
as you roll, and feel, hit after hit, but you're still not dead
your mangled car leeks oil like the cut on your head
You're lying in the dust at the bottom of the hill
bruised, bleeding, broken, your mind is alive your bodies still
driving back from your love, no not your wife
she never knew about that other life
daddy's not coming home tonight, no bedtime stories for Kate
Told your wife and kids, and you were running late
bodies lying still, smell of petrol leaking
and to make matters worse you had also been drinking
not a bad man, just a man, just a man with a plan
the car rolls again and smashes the extractor fan
creates a spark, that starts a fire
you feel the heat, you're not a bad man, just a liar
and now you will burn in your hell
in a car wreck filled with so much more to tell
and as you freeze with pain and with fright
you cry yourself into madness as you know daddy's not coming home tonight