its raining cats and dogs now and im starting to get wet theres no point running home so, lets go hang at the launderette Its warmer than the church yard, tho it may not be the ritz it smells like fabric softner and a little bit of piss Fox hides in the dryer, just his white stripes left to see he echoes from the inside 'dont you close the door on me' the windows get all steamed up, there's no-one else but us we're about to have a fumble, but the damn door opens up. its never dull though, people always come and go share their tales, their fears, their woes old girls washing, moaning bout bread A hobo if you're lucky with tales of where he's tread just dont get stuck with him alone, when the clock strikes 10 it locks for the night, so no-ones getting out or in and they wont hear you scream!
