This is a song about "Swindon"

Writing line after line i never quit, finish the lyrics now its time to spit.

Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,

Can of monster, meat / collard greens / a block of cheese and broccoli

And rhyme like carlcee. i tell about my service like its my own fuckin policy.

'cause it was an admired service-man

Gave away for another day a real renisance man