I don't want to be lectured
I like to burn my food up
Flames baptise the filth of plastic surfaces
That has migrated onto my precious natural ingredients
I could never live with someone
Who didn't enjoy scorched and burnt foods as much as me
Well fired rolls and burnt ends
Another burnt dish from another place
There have been malicious studies
That discredited heavily carbonised foods as carcinogenic
But it didn't put me off
One needs to enjoy life
And my only access route
to blissful enjoyment is those burnt foods
The taste, the tang of flame-kissed natural fibres
Frozen at the moment of their incineration is
is what I live for

I cannot feel it
The veil of black

A fine spray of white paint
Will you do me a favour and never ever use black plastic
To heat up and touch food with
or put in your mouth ever again?
Heating it up increases the likelihood
That the chemicals inside will leach into your food
And drink and into your body where they will do their damage

I cannot feel it
The veil—
The veil of black underneath
I cannot feel it

I've got real muscly hands and sick legs
They hurt me, and the boils, the boils explode
And my teeth they are old and my shoes
They aren't the right ones, but I'm young
I'm old young, I ache
And worry a lot about what people think of me
Christmas TV on my mind
Christmas TV all the time
The neighbour, the worm, the spider, they all love it
Toasting, roasting
I don't want to be lectured
Like, even a coffee cup lid that's black