I look at the world like a dodgy old van,
if it rattles too loud, I’ll still make a plan.
Bit of tape, bit of swearing, bit of stubborn pride,
then I’ll drive the thing home with the warning light fried.
I’m not everyone’s brew, I’m more builder’s tea,
strong, slightly suspect, and too much for three.
I’ll hold doors for strangers, I’ll help if I can,
then walk off thinking, people are mostly a scam.
I clock the fake smiles and the bullshit quick,
liars make my eye twitch, bullies make me sick.
Thieves get no mercy, excuses get none,
I was raised by hard lessons, not cuddles and sun.
My brain’s like a browser with tabs everywhere,
one playing old grief, one asking, what’s air?
One’s planning a gym shed, one’s writing a song,
one’s shouting, you’ve spelt that with a Z, that is wrong.
I see patterns in chaos, I hear what’s not said,
I laugh at the madness then overthink in bed.
I’ll act like I’m fine with a joke and a grin,
while my brain’s doing laps round a bin fire within.
I’ve been dad, grafter, teacher, porter,
moved half a house and still thought, could’ve been shorter.
Built from bad luck, black coffee and grit,
with a mouth like a brick and a heart full of shit.
Give me weights, green lights and a rack in a shed,
where the noise in my skull gets left there instead.
Black walls, sore hands, and plates on the floor,
that’s church for a bloke who don’t kneel anymore.
I don’t trust easy, I suss people first,
because some look like water then hand you a thirst.
But once you’re my people, I’m loyal right through,
even when I’m a nightmare with admin to do.
So that’s how I see it, this daft little planet,
full of good hearts, bad drivers and people who panic.
I’ll laugh, I’ll kick off, I’ll care till I’m sore,
then say I’m alright while I’m carrying more.
I’m rough round the edges, but real to the bone,
built like a comeback that walked itself home.
And if life wants a fight, it knows where I’ll be,
still taking the piss while it swings at me.