Get my boob!

Get your newspaper off my boob!

Time to go home, I’ve had enough
I’ll do that tomorrow, won’t sweat the small stuff

Had a wee, changed my shoes
Still sunny outside, but no time to enjoy the views

Gotta go down the tunnel with the artificial light
Jump aboard the big metal snake, and get ready for a fight

A squeeze here, a push there
A funny looking man with a weird stare

Plenty more swarm on; where, WHERE do they come from?
Excuse me hun, I don't think so, you can’t fit a pram into this maelstrom

Some bloke crouches down, trying to be covert
Stands up and – oh no! Did he mean to put his hand up her skirt?

Someone’s leaning on me, it’s deliberate, they’re so flippin’ rude
Excuse me, can you get your newspaper off my boob?!

Nearly home now, fewer people, air I can breathe
To the snake my sweat, anger and a sweet wrapper I bequeath

Tomorrow, I’ll have to do it again, there are three more days to go
But now I can rest in a space of my own, pressed only against my beau.

Tomorrow I’ll go in early and miss the multitude
Maybe that’s the only way I can keep them off my boobs.