The Pressman
By the light of the lamp I sit to type-my notes on tab at my side

I don't see the sun much these days

A fluorescent tan covers my hide

How much impact shall I have this time?

My goal today is to reac the deadline

I write between the lines

I deal with fantasy

I report the facts

Give them to me, please

Ham and egg sald on white bread keeps me company on nights like this

A pack of metholated cigarettes keeps my air nice and thick

When I write, words flow like coins from a candy box

Get out of my way

I've got something to say

The pulse is beating louder now

The cramps in my hands grow more intense with each

Tik, tik, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap on the keys

My social life is at an end so it seems to be

Why don't I trample on your lawn today?

I'll take skies of blue, turn over skies of grey

I write between the lines

I deal with fantasy

I am the pressman

Acknowledge me

Mother always told me never stray too far from home

The little lady said, "Boy, you'll never have to be alone,


You build with fountain pen

You create the memory stain

You are the pressman

Stand up straight, boy