It's a national crisis Your dependence on vices I'm amazed at your resilience To laugh at the other drunken millions When the clothes you wore to work today Are speckled with sick and Beaujolais Hit with the hammer of hard home truths There's only one thing that's left to do Chorus Put your plans on the long finger Leave your wife, promise the kids you'll see them But they know that's just feeble optimism You'd like to think you'd have kept in touch Some consideration for someone you loved But you were never very into altruism Behind the closed doors, decisions are made Behind closed doors Become disenchanted and get your own place Maudlin in private, the tears fall with grace On damp sheets that smell of dual pack Lenore And the cigarette ash from the night before A threadbare sofa out in the street The Crumlin bus station couldn't be more bleak An old man and his dog just sit and talk You have to wonder who's talking who for the walk Chorus There's no recourse to be taken here The ignored phone calls have made it clear They're better off without you in every way You pass in the street but there's nothing to say There comes a time when you have to decide Do you put your family before your pride You'd rather see them happy in their own way Than miserable with you for another day Behind closed doors, decisions are made Behind closed doors, you never know what goes on