To me, a song about being male. The lyrics alone don't do it justice.

A Thing Well Made

(Don McGlashan)

She's wearing her 'don't talk to me' face
As she makes the kids' lunches
I oblige and quietly shut the front door as I leave
I drive into town before the fog lifts
I sell sporting goods
Yes, I've got a shop not far from Cathedral Square

I like to open up early, so fellows can come in
On their way to work, and daydream around the rods and reels
While their breakfasts' still warm inside them
"Go on, have yourself a look," I'm proud of my shop
Almost everything's from overseas
You won't find a better selection

Look at the way this gun fits the crook of your arm
To make a thing like that you'd need to know what you were about
You'd need to know where you were going, and go there in a straight line
And everything else you'd have to shut right out

Can you see the man who made them?
Can you see him putting it down and standing back?
Can you see the moment when he said:

That's it! That's perfect!

At a time like that, you wouldn't care about your job
Or your mortgage or the fight you had with your wife

'Cos when a man holds a thing well made
There's connection, there's completeness
When a man holds a thing well made

When a man holds a thing well made

It's Wednesday, so I do the mail orders
There's nothing much
Some oilskins and a 303 from Torover in Westland
Oh yes, one of those AK47's
For some collector down the line