Woke late that morning
that ain't going to stop him
Gotta get to work on time
This ain't no Volva 88
this is Mercedes 97
Gatta get to the city by 9

Kissed his wife goodbye
as she handed him his case
He sped up their private track
He drove with no pity
on the way to the city
On the daythat he'd never come back

He was working up the ladder
earning 90 grand a year
His family were doing fine
She'd find out yet
he had nothing but debt
Hadn't paid the life insurance in time

He was speeding through the suburbs
on that cold and misty morning
Nicely sealed away from the cold
Had his foot down to Ihe floor
doing 90 maybe more
In Mercedes comfort I'm told

Speeding through the city
doing 90 miles an hour
Couldn't hear the young girl scream
Found him in his wreck
he'd snapped his f___ing neck
Burnt to the bone by kerosene

Speeding through the backstreet
doing 90 miles an hour
Couldn't hear what she said
there were bits on the b__per
bits on the pavement
And the bonnet got painted red

So take warning wealthy house wives
Heed this tale I tell
Make sure hubby pays his life insurance
you can spend it while he rots in hell

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