Mother will you ever really like
My painting of a man riding a bike
Through disappointment, heavy sighs and cruel lies
See the life that I often capture through my eyes
Workers all flowing out of a factory gate
An image that your mind just loves to hate
People that are short but also tall
Or the man lying horizontal on top of a wall
See the children all wild and full of mood
Like ants all collective on decaying food
Mother won’t you just stop and see
I’m a painter an artist that’s just me
White paint stroked over fabric sheets
Under reflections showing desolation on
Salford streets
I am a man who paints what he sees
Like children running around with funny knees
Matchstick men and matchstick cats and dogs
To children on the ***** streets with sparkling clogs
I know I seem a disappointment to you
But when your gone my images the world will finally view
Those funny people, animals and smoke
Were done by me, L S Lowry, the maternal joke