Fine Day Out

Day Out

Listen wincing to the cackling hags
Hunch your shoulders, breathe the fags
Amble 'round the back street hiding
Peruse the porn down the railway siding

Consider for a moment Nicky Soames
His accent, lifestyle, hair and clothes
His culture, education, friends and homes
Then crawl in the cave and gnaw at the bones

Dodge pursuers like a foreign spy
While thinking aloud of Lizzie Fry
Consider all as carbon and dust
And rotting, and decay, and empty, and rust

Quasimodo through the urban sties
Stoop your posture, avert your eyes
Forget love and happiness bought
For life to date has come to naught