When, many years ago, Noel Coward and Sefton Daly visited my teacher, Coward refused to sit down because the chair was too dusty. My teacher spoke to me of the embarrassment he suffered but imagine how shattered the chair must have felt. This white chair has obviously incurred severe depression at the thought of how many illustrious backsides it has failed to support owing to its grubbiness.
A splendid modern treat, Neil, worthy to stand alongside the Walk to School and the Attack of the Flies in its sinister and numinous implication. I like the evocative, roaring scales in the bass, they recall Chasse Neige and St Francis Walks on the Water; how Liszt must have enjoyed ripping such figures out. The variety, speed and unerring accuracy of your modern keyboard vocabulary is testimony to the years of work you must have put into it.
Personally, I subscribe to the Quentin Crisp theory of dust, which asserts that once dust builds to a certain critical level it never becomes any worse. Unfortunately, my wife embraces a contrary belief.