I paint the sink

They say I'm not the man I was
And this is said with ne'er a blink.
I did not settle- but no man does.
Here, I paint the sink.
I dry wash the drywall in the morning.
I try this while drinking toast.
And then I set about adorning
The walls with portraits of a ghost.
They say I've gone from bad to worse,
That I'm standing on the brink.
Damning my blessings with a curse.
All the while, I smile and paint the sink.
I disengage the plumbing
And stop to smell the rain.
I relax because the work is numbing
Only half of my brain.
They say I must come back to them
But that is not what they truly think.
Rather, to disconnect the brain stem
That let's me paint the sink.
When they come to visit and sit,
Most just look around and frown.
No furniture?!--They almost shit
...Ah! But the plumbing is shut down.
They say I have lost my gourd
And I smile with a nod and a wink.
----For my armor has no chink.
In this lowly castle, the last is lord
And here, I paint the sink.
Without furnishing, they all are floored
For it is I who paints the sink.