My computer’s eaten Microsoft Office
It’s swallowed twelve years of work
It’s caused me to pull out the hairs from my head
So I’ve come to sit in the shed
The kids are all fighting, their schoolwork’s untouched
They’re glued to their tablets and phones
They can’t hear a single thing that I’ve said
So I’ve come to sit in the shed
The dishes are stacked up in dirty great piles
The laundry is starting to smell
There’s fur on the fruit and there’s mould on the bread
So I’ve come to sit in the shed
The news is depressing, the outlook is grim
Our leaders just don’t have a clue
The dog has decided to sleep in my bed
So I’ve come to sit in the shed
The phone keeps on ringing, the emails won’t stop
I’m pushed from pillar to post
The TV is broken, the WiFi is dead
So I’ve come to sit in the shed
If anyone wants me, please don’t let on
Don’t tell them where I’ve escaped
Perhaps say I’ve gone for a bike ride instead
While I sit here, alone, in the shed
By Conrad Burdekin