PSP Man

PSP Man, you are ruining my life.
Wait, no.
That's too dramatic.
You're ruining my life between the hour of 7 and 8,
On the daily commute to London.

You're 40-plus
But you've got the gadgets,
The iPod, the Blackberry...the PSP.
Everything you could possibly want,
Tucked into your shiny suit pockets.

With Lara Croft in the palm of your hand
And the earphones plugged deep in your ears,
You're furiously playing
In the Quiet Zone,
And the clicking of buttons is driving
me
insane.

Click-click-click, click-click-click.
You may have all the gadgets
But your manners have gone for a burton.
And you chew your gum, your Orbit Whitening gum
So the clicks are accompanied by chomps.
Click click click,Chomp chomp chomp.

I'd block it out with my own music,
But the cheap mp3 player I bought is dead,
And no amount of staring into the back gardens of Upminster
Is going to block you out.
PSP Man, you are ruining my life.
Between the hour of 7 and 8,
If you could keep it down,
That really would be great.