ramblings and things
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Streets of Gold
It's Sunday morning in the centre of town
There's I only me and the pigeons around.
Victoria surveys her eponymous square
From atop the loo with imperial stare
There's a sea of rubbish nearly out of sight
The usual detritus of a Saturday night.
The pigeons are pecking at mixed curry and spew
Which I am trying to keep from off my shoes.
It's dirty and it's scruffy and so dreadfully mean
But it's only a normal city centre scene
After the cream of species of this fair earth
Celebrate Saturday for all they are worth
And on Saturday nights these streets are mean
A rowdy and raucous and shifting scene
Of conspicuous consumption in the cause and the name
Of ensuring the species in the new mating game.
Does Victoria sigh sadly and avert her gaze
And wish for the peace of her former days
For sadly progress has spoiled her skyline
And in the name of progress all is just fine
And now where there used to be shipping and docks
Has been replaced by an outrage of shops
So hideous and modern and lacking in taste
An historic view just a laid to waste -
But on second thoughts it will probably do
Do such folk deserve a much better view.
Victoria still regally stands atop of her loo
The pigeons still eat mixed curry and spew
It's still Sunday morning and only me there
But why should I bother – no bugger else cares.
There's I only me and the pigeons around.
Victoria surveys her eponymous square
From atop the loo with imperial stare
There's a sea of rubbish nearly out of sight
The usual detritus of a Saturday night.
The pigeons are pecking at mixed curry and spew
Which I am trying to keep from off my shoes.
It's dirty and it's scruffy and so dreadfully mean
But it's only a normal city centre scene
After the cream of species of this fair earth
Celebrate Saturday for all they are worth
And on Saturday nights these streets are mean
A rowdy and raucous and shifting scene
Of conspicuous consumption in the cause and the name
Of ensuring the species in the new mating game.
Does Victoria sigh sadly and avert her gaze
And wish for the peace of her former days
For sadly progress has spoiled her skyline
And in the name of progress all is just fine
And now where there used to be shipping and docks
Has been replaced by an outrage of shops
So hideous and modern and lacking in taste
An historic view just a laid to waste -
But on second thoughts it will probably do
Do such folk deserve a much better view.
Victoria still regally stands atop of her loo
The pigeons still eat mixed curry and spew
It's still Sunday morning and only me there
But why should I bother – no bugger else cares.
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Streets of Gold
Streets of Gold