Pressman (Live at Berkeley Square)

[Verse 1]

By the light of lamp, I sit to type

My notes on tab at my side

I don't see the sun much these days

A fluorescent tan covers my hide

How much impact shall I have this time?

My goal today is to reach the deadline

I write between the lines, I deal with fantasy

I report the facts, give them to me, please

Ham and egg salad on white bread

Keeps me company on nights like this

A pack of mentholated cigarettes

Keep my air nice and thick

When I write, words flow like coins from a candy box

Get out of my way, I've got something to say

The pulse is beating louder now

The cramps in my hands grow more intense with each tik, tik

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap on the keys

My social life is at an end

So it seems to be

Why don't I just trample on your lawn today?

I'll take the skies of blue and turn them in, into the skies of grey, boy

I write between the lines, I deal with fantasy

I am the pressman, acknowledge me

Mother always told me, "Never stray too far from home"

The little lady said, "Boy, you never have to be alone, because

You build with fountain pen, you create the memory stain

You are the pressman, stand up straight, boy."