TWISTYHING
£125.00
On sale
12 x 9” acrylic on canvas with accompanying handwritten poem on piece of paper on the back of painting.
TWISTYHING
No band would take him
They wouldn’t even let him play
He replied to ad after ad
Day after day
“Why’d I even invent the fucking thing”
He’d say to himself“
Is it even worth the hassle”
As it broke another shelf
Going solo was the plan
So he set the room to jam
He picked it up, struggled and swayed
His sight went black and his legs gave way
His cheeks near burst as he fought for a tune
He puffed his lungs, they turned to prunes
The cause of death was not plugging in
His own demise, the Twistyhing
Worldwide tracked & insured shipping