The Urban Retreat

Now I love a landscaped garden

With plants and flowers sublime

I adore those hills and mountains

And each rugged, rocky climb

I hear the call of the deep blue sea

As I feel it’s power inside of me

But it’s only when I’m on this train

That I know I am coming home again

For within this rubble, dirt and dust

Live the people I can really trust

And I know that each and every time

I’m at my happiest in amongst the grime

Local Boy Made ‘Good’

Although you’re glad to have me back,

Eating those chips will give me a heart attack!

I can’t sit in front of the telly all day,

For I fear my brain will waste away.

I don’t want a pint at the Working Men’s Club –

How about we cycle to a gastropub?

I don’t remember Elsie from next door but two,

Even if you are convinced I do.

And I don’t want any more tea,

Unless it’s ceylon, roiboos or elderberry.

You see when I moved away,

I left all of this without a care.

And now when I’m forced to come back here,

I am embarrassed beyond compare.

Middle Class Wooing

Don’t
bother
picking
flowers

They
will just
make me
sneeze

If you
really
want to
impress me

Just
bring
a wheel
of cheese

For an
‘expensive’
bottle
of wine

And a
little
bit of
Brie

Is
really
all it
takes

To get
into
bed
with me

On This Street

One woman cries at the kitchen sink

One man pours himself another drink

One woman sits in her bedroom binge eating

One man gives another a beating

One man rocks himself to sleep

One woman prays the lord her soul to keep

One man paces going quietly mad

One woman realises she’s been had

One man cries for the loss of his wife

One woman downs pills to end her life

They all know, deep down, their lives are shit

But, on this street, they are powerless to change it

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