Tears of the Cyclopes

In ancient Greece lived three Cyclopes; Arges, Brontes, Asteropes. Mighty strong young men were they; forging armour night and day. Lightening and thunder for Zeus they threw; with all the power and might they knew. Thunderbolts crashed from mountains high; thrown by the Cyclopes who had one eye. This all-seeing member in the centre of the face; could see everything, everyone and every place. The power of these Titans who lived long ago; is with us still today, you know. Look round your kitchen for the all-seeing eye; ignore not the engine with which you wash and dry. Your towels and sheets and shirts and socks; undies, blouses, hankies, frocks. If to the Cyclopes you cannot relate; your domestic washer, then hear me, mate. Load your clothes into the drum; start the engine, hear it thrum. See it start to gather speed; soap and conditioner to it feed. See the suds run down the window; tears of the Cyclopes, I assure you. Shake and rattle, roar and rumble; the clean-machine begins to tumble. Soon your clothes will be quite dry; through the power of the Beast with the all-seeing eye. So never, ever, ever doubt; the might of the Cyclopes is still about. Rendering our laundry fresh and clean; trashing about in the washing machine.