Plumbers

The faucets are dripping I get so nervous that I can’t stop shaking It’s like a cold steel dream I know you can’t stop it But it’s the mechanical thing That scares me. Drip, drip, drip Is it really that bad To bring people into my house I doubt it But I can’t stand it any longer Some thick-legged boy will tell me It was nothing but a pressure valve. “Really?” I say. “Ah yea usually takes two days. By then you got real troubles.” What kind of troubles is he talking about? Cancer, the kututra, the heebie-jeebies? I simply can’t take it. He slides under the sink Mumbles something about a saw And some plumbers tape Fifteen minutes later I owe him $143.00. Now that is some kind of tape.