Heir to Hereditary Heresy

The Faults of all Generations...

They f**k you up, your mum and dad. 
They may not mean to, but they do. 
They fill you with the faults they had 
And add some extra, just for you. 

But they were fucked up in their turn 
By fools in old-style hats and coats, 
Who half the time were soppy-stern 
And half at one another's throats. 

Man hands on misery to man. 
It deepens like a coastal shell. 
Get out as early as you can, 
And don't have any kids yourself.