Dirty minds
Squeaking, squeaking, squeaking
You are in a public place
The culprit has music blasting in earphone
Enjoying the rhythm
Rocking to the rhythm
Only he is sitting in a squeaking chair
And that noise bring back memory
A reminder of a certain piece of furniture
So many times, so many places
That’s one squeaking noise
You care not to hear
But the culprit in ignorance
Keeps up the squeaking
Then someone is bold
And ask the culprit to stop
Explaining exactly why
And on the inside you breathe a sigh
You are not the only one
With a dirty mind
© Prince W Bradford 2015
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