Can't type, I'm eating, can't hear the music
The sound of chewing dominates my head
That's better, all gone, but some salt to lick
Away from my teeth and gums, or rotted
Like when a kid and my mum's not bothered
We eat sweets when we like as long as we
Eat her boring meals. Dad's were worse, we'd dread
Veg boiled to death and piled up vertically
Sausages marooned in watery gravy
With islands of fat, frying pan relic
Running out of teeth to fill, dentist said
And as for the braces, failed miserably
To make my front teeth straight, it was a trick
But it was all National Health Service paid
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