The Unfairness Of Angels

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 The tireless search for my own place
looking for a house
is not that easy
and without trying to sound cheesy
'you need to have that feeling'
Like an old converted Victorian flat
With a high ceiling
A garden, nottoo big or small
With a long corridor or hall
A two bed flat would be great
I'm not looking for a grand estate
I don't want to live in a modern new build
I hate the way they built upon that field
Towering planks of greyness
Boring, cold and heartless
I need to be within the City
I'm not a country boy, but that's just me
I like my abundance of cultural shops
Not the endless fields of corn and crops
I rent now, which is ok
But i can't always stay this way
As I'm just handing money over
To a landlord that drives a Rover
The endless search for my own place
livable, warm with amble space
Is turning into an eternal bore
I just want my own key, to my own door!



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