My Son Is Dead

Sausages, bacon, apples, pizza bread Food's somehow lost its taste, although I've fed. What's missing from the small domestic list Ah, how could I forget? My son is dead ‘Good afternoon. The weather's lovely, yes Not often you can wear a summer dress And after all the rain we had last week, ' my neighbour said I smile and nod, jump through the social hoops Inside my heart's a hammer pounding chaff My son is dead Will I step out in brown shoes or in red? I've ceased to care for ordinary things Life is a treadmill now. All skies are lead Behind the mask I howl My son is dead Well, well. Another earthquake in the Med Bombs fall on Where-was-that? On Who-were-they? The only banner headline in my head Tops all, all always will. My son is dead.