Ode to Southwark

There’s a crack house on my doorstep
There’s a hooker on my street
I’ve had my car radio nicked
By kids with tattooed feet

I’ve been burgled by a father and son
Who knew no right from wrong
They knew how much my camera was worth
But not my balinese sarong

I’ve been ripped off by some builders
Who thought that I was rich
They trashed my house and bank account
Like i was just their bitch

The twat who owns my freehold
Comes from foreign lands
He doesn’t give a toss about me
As long as my cash is in his hands

My neighbours are just lazy chavs
Who drink and watch sky TV
A trained monkey could do that
While studying for a degree

There’s a garage at the end of the row
That dumps filth on the floor
It ends up on my windscreen though
Whenever there’s a downpour

I’ve had my fill of binge drinkers
Whacked out upon Pernod
I’ve had my fill of this neighbourhood
It sucks more than you know

It’s time to move to France my friends
To fresh air and good food
To the land of ‘La belle vie’
And where Kronenbourg is brewed

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