Dragnet for gun-blast man 1 The papers had her father holding up a picture His son-in-law killed her Ah yes, he killed his wife She was wasting his life His veins are full of evil serum But what's done is done
And now he's trapped in flat of angles Hiding in flat of angles Right down to its gables
And sometimes bell busts under the rings from many callers Coupon and Gas Board man Dragnet for gun-blast man
Who's trapped in flat of angles Rented cage is flat of angles Right down to its gables
And first he started on the floorboards One twenty degrees from window 2 Doors altered to specification and keep out stupid neighbours 3
Very safe is flat of angles Cheap rent too his flat of angles Down to its gables
Here he fights to type story of murder in his life Or soap operas all day In rooms of dirty laundry
But I'm in flat of angles Hiding in flat of angles Right down to its gables
And the sun dragged him out one day from his laundry He saw mercenary eyes The streets are full of mercenary eyes
Well stretched in flat of angles Not long left in flat of angles Down to the gables
There's a big reward for gun-blast man A big reward for gun-blast man A big reward for gun-blast man A big reward for gun-blast man Let us go up and write stories
“Dragnet” is something of an Americanism. Graham Duff comments: “Mark was far from immune to American influences. Indeed this narrative could be said to play out like an episode of The Twilight Zone.”(Smith and Duff, 2021). ↩︎
A “Flat of Angles” suggests a space that isn’t just a physical apartment, but a psychological trap constructed of sharp corners and rigid perspectives. “Doors altered to specification” suggests the protagonist has physically modified his environment to match his paranoia. He is obsessed with angles—specifically “one twenty degrees from window”—as if he’s trying to calculate the exact trajectory of an incoming “dragnet” or a sniper’s bullet. He is in a cheap rent sanctuary that has become a prison. This is not a crime of passion, but a crime of resentment. The wife was “wasting his life,” so he ended hers, sung as though to underline the apparent logic of the illogic and violence. His veins are full of evil serum either because they are literally drugged or this is a metaphor for a poisoned soul. Either way, he is now a man “full of evil” hiding among “dirty laundry.” This song is in a sense peeking into this private space, this flat of angles. A man in hiding is petrified of the coupon and gas board man. The most ordinary bureaucratic visits are all potentially part of the dragnet, the web that may catch him. When the sun finally drags him out, he doesn’t see a beautiful day, but a world of predators. Everyone is a bounty hunter looking for the big reward. This could be another metaphor, so common with Smith, of the wider society or of the music industry, places where people are constantly looking to cash in on the struggles of others. From observing the gun-blast man to then describing being in a flat of angles, hiding in a flat of angles, the narrator is typing the “story of murder in his life / or soap operas all day.” This may link to Smith’s own songwriting, since he may be realizing that he is in the same boat as the criminal, also holed up in a room with angles (different perspectives, different lyrics to scribble out), trying to turn his own horrors into a story.
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Finally clicked that this is, ‘Doors altered to specifications’. ‘opened’ never felt quite right.
You’re right! Thanks, I have altered the lyrics to correct specification.
A “Flat of Angles” suggests a space that isn’t just a physical apartment, but a psychological trap constructed of sharp corners and rigid perspectives. “Doors altered to specification” suggests the protagonist has physically modified his environment to match his paranoia. He is obsessed with angles—specifically “one twenty degrees from window”—as if he’s trying to calculate the exact trajectory of an incoming “dragnet” or a sniper’s bullet. He is in a cheap rent sanctuary that has become a prison. This is not a crime of passion, but a crime of resentment. The wife was “wasting his life,” so he ended hers, sung as though to underline the apparent logic of the illogic and violence. His veins are full of evil serum either because they are literally drugged or this is a metaphor for a poisoned soul. Either way, he is now a man “full of evil” hiding among “dirty laundry.” This song is in a sense peeking into this private space, this flat of angles. A man in hiding is petrified of the coupon and gas board man. The most ordinary bureaucratic visits are all potentially part of the dragnet, the web that may catch him. When the sun finally drags him out, he doesn’t see a beautiful day, but a world of predators. Everyone is a bounty hunter looking for the big reward. This could be another metaphor, so common with Smith, of the wider society or of the music industry, places where people are constantly looking to cash in on the struggles of others. From observing the gun-blast man to then describing being in a flat of angles, hiding in a flat of angles, the narrator is typing the “story of murder in his life / or soap operas all day.” This may link to Smith’s own songwriting, since he may be realizing that he is in the same boat as the criminal, also holed up in a room with angles (different perspectives, different lyrics to scribble out), trying to turn his own horrors into a story.