Or so somebody said A victim of entropy And bullets in the head She worked an English day From 9 to 17 Captains of Industry Were ghosts in her machine She had a bad head, a bad head, a bad head She had a part to play She played it very well No one would ever know her private living hell One night the lights went out Her mind just blew a fuse I read it all today on the early evening news She had a bad head, a bad head, a bad head Some people dream at night They wake up - they get old Some people scream at night Some people explode You heard that hollow sound You smoke the cigarette of doubt You have to swallow it down She just blew it out Silhoutte the letter, the note on the night stand Picking up the pieces that had never been one I can recollect the note she left in her right hand The note she wrote that she signed with a gun.