Alan

In any place, when you figure it, there's always the Old Lady, boiling washing bits, while a hoover gyrates, and all the new gadgets, that go with a living wage, her hands can fit, sitting here in outer space, the universal launderette, spins before my face, music from the Web, rolls across the port frame, hey man change the cassette, it'd be a cheek to say, man what is that, the earth hesitates, like it has a stitch, is not me whose afraid, that love doesn't exist, my wife and my mate, are to blame for this.