Friday, 24 May 2013

Postcode Wars

There was a small misdemeanor in the back row of the cinema, that went unheard.
She fell to her knees and was willing to please, that unruly bird.
Well known to customers, young boys and middle aged married men,
She sold us her dignity for silver coins, you only need ten.

There was a hell of a melee, round lower Leyton way,
Where a group of pimps took the streets and the lives of two crackhead guys.
They paid the penalty, for mouthing off to the wrong fellas,
Shouting all foreign and supping on Stellas.

There was an unsightly ruckus at the back of the bus, down Chingford Mount.
Four hooded boys, having a brawl, a dirty free for all, with too many lead pipes to count.
Straight from Hall Estate, it was very dark and late,
While one unlucky chap fell to his fate.

There was a hell of a scrap across the London tube map, with all in anarchy and innocents needing to flee.
The place looks bare, nothing to see, just scared faces and an empty scene.

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

The Tramp's A Doll.

You've got some nerve, make me live on a curve,
Over the hill again finding the light,
Push me to the floor and say that I'm shite.
Ignore all my messages, making it hard,
Look through my shadow and give me a yard.
Won't touch me at night, won't leave me in the day,
Just grab on my coat tails and get in my way.
You've got some nerve, make me sing the blues,
But when I speak the truth you ain't got a clue.
Ignore all my messages, reading them twice.
Making it impossible just to live my life.
But when it's all said and done,
And you think it's a laugh,
You'll be left cast aside, the only one.
Left in the wilderness, wanting a friend,
While I'm riding high and I'm on the mend.

Tuesday, 21 May 2013

SE Scallywag

Why pull on my heartstrings? Why tug at my soul?
You know you're a liar from a South London shithole.
You put on your war paint and get ready to fight,
Jumping through hoops, but try as you might,
You fall asleep on the N55, after a night with Charles at some East London dive.

You'll never fit in with the cool guys in the band,
Eyes so wide with a cigarette in hand.
But why pull at my heartstrings? Why tug at my soul?
You're a dirty liar from a South London shithole.

As you back comb your hair and pull up your tights,
You look like a hooker under a Dutch red light.
You play with love like an old violin, missing the notes and failing to sing.

You're a dirty liar with an SE postcode, looking for lovers to ruin and throw,
Throw into the drink from the Southwark bridge,
Looking for lovers to push from the ledge.

You're a two bob cunt, acts like a spiv, with nothing to offer, nothing to give.
You're a jumped up loser that bleeds us all dry, looking all lost with that glint in your eye.
So pull on your high heels and tug off that man, you're losing your mind, messing up your plans.

You've lost your mind and you have no plan.

Never Say Goodbye.

God knows I miss her, like a fallen dove,
She watched me grow from the corner, only disapproving love.
She remains prim and proper out to the faraway sea, gliding through the wind, coming home to he.

Sipping from a coffee cup, another drag to the bone,
A head full of grey thoughts, a head full of home.
Homeward bound, to the one she loves, the one she craves for, hasn't see or hasn't hugged.

Don't pray for her now as she closes those weary eyes, rests her aching body and takes her last sigh.
You may have to remember all of those happy times, but I'll just say hello and never a faint goodbye.