Some GCSE kids write rock songs about living in ‘the end times’,
fumbling over syllables and the length of lines,
soul searching for the most desperate rhymes.
One of them heard Tom Waits for the very first time.
Now everything’s the devil in disguise,
and that waitress,
she’s got marmalade thighs
but he doesn’t know why
or whether it’s a good thing, besides,
his lyrics are still sticky and adolescent inside.
Like the tissues hiding down his bedside
This is the kid who learnt how to make love and socialise
By repeatedly watching those Central Perk guys.
His favourite has changed from Joey to Ross.
S’pose he feels like he can empathise.
‘I prefer Seinfeld anyway’ he lies
Still forgetting to dot his ‘I’s
But he pretends to prefer anything his friends
or even despise.
It justifies him feeling marginalised.
Heck, maybe these are the end times
But who ever promised him otherwise?