I play the drums when the neighbours are gone
Because my bedroom walls are paper thin
We live arm to arm
But not hand in hand
And I don't want them drumming back
When my note pads full and my wallets empty
And I've used all the plain sides of all my mother's letters
If I draw on the walls
Do you think she'll mind?
Do you reckon it'll add value?
If she literally takes my life
Call me Vincent
Van Gogh for short
Notorious after I'm gone
Art's a risk I'll after take