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11-01-2006, 04:33 PM | #1 (permalink) |
They call me Tundra Boy
Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: In your linen cupboard.
Posts: 1,166
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The Bristol Road is a river of stench
Some people take a sense
Of pride in where they live For others, it defines their sense of self For me, my local conditions Are more a war of attrition A battle for my sanity and health There’s litter on the pavement It’s never cleared away The broken glass is evidence of fights The vandals and the drunkards Keep the streets in disarray I wake to sirens every other night Its not much of a place Its not much of a place Its not much of a place Its not much of a place But I call it home I call it home Its not much of a place But I call it home I call it home Its not much of a place But I call it home There’s a rat down by our dustbin He eats with trepidation Perhaps he thinks we’re carrying disease There’s a double decker bus Its pulled up right outside my window Now the passengers are peering in at me Its not much of a place Its not much of a place Its not much of a place Its not much of a place But I call it home I call it home Its not much of a place But I call it home I call it home Its not much of a place But I call it home |
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