Radiohead Apple phone market stall poem day

On a market town market day

I slipped inside on my way

To a colossal warehouse shop

I passed by an android stall

An apple phone recovery stall

Worked by a guru upon a stool

Who claimed he could repair them all

Two thousand paperback fiction books

Took five million cursory looks

At the pencil price inner leaf

We can take a card payment now

We can pack and prepare for it now

My fructose intolerance

Spiked through white grape price hollering

There's a gap in the marketplace

There's a gap where I took my face

To get away from the men

Who were shouting of their produce

Their wrapped up in wax paper fruit

Standing in their peaked flat caps

Clad in their visceral fats

Calling the price of satsumas

I had to leave the other consumers

Skip away from collapsed climbing frames

From the scaffold poles that jangled my name

As they fell on the square

That were set up in the cold five AM air

Other men wrestled power cables

And erected the trestle tables

With metal tasting market tools

Their clad in PVC market stalls

As I took my face out of there

And danced through a coat hanger lair

I didn't know when or where

I was anymore