Idle

The shutters bounce onto the floor of my empty stare,

And daydreams project onto the wall as it stands bare,

Skeleton frame resides slumped, going fucking nowhere,

The pint of piss provides the grip to keep me sitting there,

The sniper's gaze softly travels right past me,

But they don't mind I'm no threat and so they'll gladly have me,

Rollerbladed waitresses skate with plates of pasties,

The cartoon beckoning finger slowly wafting at me.

This place is fucking rammed but I'm forever here alone,

Never mind I've the best seat in the house to call my own,

The sonic blanket keeps me safe from all the other folk,

The ones who screech about their dirty fabricated souls,

Rumbling bass lies dormant til it fucking hits,

If you were hearing this then what I say would start to stick,

You'd chill the fuck out and stop going on about the things I've missed,

Shut your lips and think there's nothing quite as good as this.

Til the bell tolls I'll be gladly sitting here,

Solving all the mysteries that have puzzled man for a thousand years,

A shattered glass gets a sixteen season cheer,

And I'm shook up, my discoveries are quickly switched with fear,

A headless TopShop model waltzes all around the place,

Followed by an elf with ill fitting clothes and a metal face,

Seven siblings step up with a synchronised pace,

With the same feet, same legs, same top and the same face,

The West's most feared outlaw's holding hands with a chimp,

His spur digging on the back of a well dressed leather gimp,

And Action Man is on the scene after a marathon sprint,

And some bloke's coughing up a parasite in the bathroom sink.