Fake Believe
I walk these majestic corridors of the huge tower block
Skyscraper clawing down the sky into the earth
Thirty two floors above ground
And ten below where anything goes
Tell me, what’s down there?
Ornate toilets fit for a king
That I use three times a night
When I have a right big shit
And wash my armpits, tonsils and nipples on the bidet
Enjoying being tickled by the water
Then dry them on the air jet blower
Followed by a job off the toilet attendant
Male or female it doesn’t matter
Just close your eyes and tap twice
She/he/ladyboy will soon be there
Part of the joy of working in the city
Call centre vampires enjoying their work
We only come out at night
When I prowl the corridors of my structure
I’m the CEO of my own company
And own this building and all of you
In my murky make believe world
Of office tower block fake worldery