You still smile at me when I come home
And you always ask me how my day has been
You dry your face to make me feel there's nothing wrong
As we start another evening of return.

You sit and wait for me to tell my usual lie
At all excuse to get away from home
And I help you with your coat and straighten up your tie
But as you leave I'm reaching for the phone.

This is not a home, it's a place where we change cloths
And walk the floor and wait and watch the clock
No, it's not a home this is one of those
Situations known as marriage on the rocks.

You wait from nine to five pretending I'm at home
And yet you know I meet him secretly
How much longer must this game of decieve go on
We'd both be better off if we were free.

No, it's not a home, this is one of those
Situations known as marriage on the rocks...