"I'm sick of this", he spat as the spin cycle span
"I've been sitting here for years
Watching washing machines go
Round, round, round, round, round
I went to art school but the teacher lost my work
And so I fix kitchen appliances for pissed-up, pissed-off customers
Now, now, now, now, now
I got these stories and illustrations
It's like a calling for me to create 'em
I drop them off in coffee shops
And I don't care who reads them
That ain't why I put my pen to pad
I write 'em cause I need to
I ain't got much in the way of good company
Just strangers in kitchens offering me cups of tea
Imposing with conversation or trying to ignore me
Never in between
I'm ageing, my back aches
My knees hurt from kneeling on lino for my entire working day
And when I get home I'll open the bottle
And scribble my thoughts 'til the day is forgotten
Got these stories and illustrations
It's like a calling for me to create 'em
I drop them off in coffee shops and I don't care who reads them
That ain't why I put my pen to pad
I write 'em cause I need to
I'm tantamount to genius, the things I write are beautiful
Don't care if you don't read 'em, cause I never wrote a word for you
I write 'em for me and I like what I read
I'm kind of lonely
I got these stories and illustrations
It's like a calling for me to create 'em
I drop them off in coffee shops and pray that someone reads them
Because if my art had impact it would give my life some meaning"