There's many a thing could be said about a man,

who practices the guitar whilst taking a dump.

A guy who sits between two parked chairs,

playing pool drunk,

then slumping to the floor comfortably numb.

 

Bathroom antics are this man's speciality,

best friend and lover with the bog brush,

his bed the floor.

His cosy duvet cover is the bath mat,

and the toilet for a pillow,

in which to perch and pluck out the best

of romantic chatter

and tell the bog brush,

how much he loves her.

He even kisses and plays with her hair,

then talks to himself and can't remember a single word or thing,

the next following day.

What would people think or say?

 

Is this the normal behaviour of a Lakeland cook?

With his deep fried ice creams,

and other gourmet perfections?

 

Strumming chords with his toilet expressions,

and maybe Hendrix did this, we'll never know.

But one thing's for sure:

If music be the food of good relief,

then play on, play on!