I like travelling backwards in trains, Tinkering about with the drains, Encountering muggers in parks, Failing to beat snooker sharks, Being at the back of the queue When petrol deliveries are due. I like shouting out in the street And hugging people I meet, As long as they're suitably keen And don't at all mind being seen Locked in a friendly embrace Without feeling daft or abase. I like to talk dirty in bars On politics, god and the stars, On dismantling all nation states, Tangling those up in debates Whose preference is football and sex. I like to find ways to perplex. I pick on a topic and lose, Like betting that rabbits wear shoes, Or if debate has been won, Turn it round 'til I'm got on the run And arguing backwards at pace That there isn't a human race. I like it on strike when I'm losing My wages. I find it amusing To picket the scabs and the bosses; Their faces make up for the losses A stoppage of working engenders. And after picket line duty...the benders! I'm partial to chocolate with cider, Which makes me feel free as a glider When losing it's hawser and soaring. The problems begin when withdrawing. There's much to be said of addiction, So any obtuse predilection To opine abusers are for it, I'd really rather ignore it. I'd like to withhold all my taxes, Smash up cell phones, computers and faxes, Glue locks up when no one is looking And sign autographs Trevor Brooking! But I'll settle for clearing the drains And travelling backwards in trains.