An Ode To The Man


Fake sunshades man when we first meet
You insist on calling me friend
I don't know why you bother when
You want my means to meet your end

Your starting price is always distorted
Because you say your shades are designer
I look at them, cheap flimsy things
And know they're made in China

“No!” You say, they're genuine, real
When they're made of shitty plastic
But you persist with your tall tales
Evidently taking me for a spastic

But I still need something, anything
To protect my eyes from the bright sun
And while I swither and try to decide
You smile and offer me two-for-one

You say they're magic, that I'll look cool
That they'll protect me from UV rays
When we both know in fact they'll be dead,
And broken, within a matter of days

I've paid in dong, dollars and pesos
The results are always the same:
What you claimed were bespoke and reliable
Turned out to be awful, shit and lame

Oakleys pop and Raybans snap,
Nike and Versace bite the dust too
I swear and want my money back
But now I've no hope of finding you

And if I could find you, what would I see?
You in some squalid foreign heap
Nah, in the end I don't hold any grudges
When I insist on buying shades so cheap.