Was Fred Goodwin a raving lunatic?

That's the question. And it deserves an answer. / I'm not talking about now. He's probably quite sane now. 'You reckon?' I'm talking about his crazy Royal Bank of Scotland years. / Apparently, Fred was obsessed with small details. 'Nothing wrong with that, Mikey. If you look after the pennies, the pounds will look after themselves.' I don't mean financial matters at the bank, Voice. 'What do you mean then?' Well ... cigarette butts, Sellotape, carpets, false teeth, peanuts, Christmas cards, violins, rats, filing cabinets, bananas ... 'Eh?!' These are just a few of the things that flowed through Fred's consciousness - according to a new book on the great man. 'What a fucking nutter!' Well, yes, he was. But I'm sure he's okay now. We all go through funny phases, don't we? 'His whole career seems to have been a funny phase, man.' Oh, that's harsh. / I just think his heart wasn't in it. Fred Goodwin didn't want to be a banker. He wanted to be a racing car driver. He never made it though. So what did he do? He went in for classic passive aggressive behaviour at RBS. This was his attitude: I'm not wasting my time making money for the bank. I'm gonna get some nicer filing cabinets. I'm gonna design some really cool Christmas cards. Who the fuck left that cigarette butt on the steps outside?! Don't you see? Anything to avoid doing the job he was paid to do. 'I suppose so, boss.' There's no doubt about it. And it was making him ill, Voice. He's well out of it.

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Fred's story is a lesson to us all. I'm not going to let it happen to me. Dreams can come true. As soon as I've finished that last lyric for my demo ...