I stand in my garden and look around
Who knows what happens in these small towns​
Behind the curtains in suburbia
Who knows what really happens there?

The mild-mannered man you meet on your stroll
Could have 5 Japanese, plastic *** dolls
Behind the curtains in suburbia
Who knows what could happen here?

The fat, jolly woman to whom you say ' hello '
Her husband could be under the patio
Middle class suburbia
Anything can happen here

My next door neighbour's curtains twitch
In her back room she is a witch
Pentagrams​ in blood on the laminate floor
As she chats to the woman next door
She leaves a note out for the milk-man
Then she sells her soul to Satan

Behind the curtains in suburbia
Who knows what happens here?

It's not like the rough council estates​
Where people are driven by need and hate
The sheer boredom of suburbia
Breeds evil things that happen here