Concrete against the soul

I can't help but wonder about my state of mind this week. Reflected in the songs that I've been writing. Well, I say writing, but "just came out with" seems more appropriate.

Firstl, brother accused me this week of overusing mushrooms, as if this was possible. Where would I be without the soft embrace of shallow-fried garlic mushrooms in my carbonaras, bolognaises or paellas? So to be accused of overuse was a shock. In one of those all time Classic Freudian Slips, I tried to defend myself with 'Well, I tend to err on the side of mushroom'.

Anyone, to the song. It goes something like this.
"Mushrooms, you're my favourite fungi
You taste good in stir-fries, curries and sundaes,
Mushrooms, I never got to know you,
But now I'm making up for lost time'

And I started singing this one to myself on the number 7 going into work. To the tune of 'Big Yellow Taxi'
"They paved paradise
And put up Borehamwood
With a big high street, a tower block
And a ming-giiiiing town hall

Don't it always seem to go?
But I can't get out of this hell-hole
They paved paradise
And put up Borehamwood.'

Now I just need the second verse. And if you think that's bad, wait until I start on Christmas songs....