Gold-dipped spires in pastel light
Betray the coming of the night
And the purple skirted summer sky
That harbours high society -
Crescents of wealth, alive with songs
The echoing of dinner gongs
And tenants stumbling through the dawn
From cypress-clad Olympus.

The Georgian rooftops, copper-capped
Once kept their vices tightly wrapped
Now attics shelter sharpened tongues
And whispers in the night.
The nooses tied in gilded rope
Foretell the total loss of hope
Of those who watched their dreams elope
From cypress-clad Olympus.

The faded queens and men of rank
Who filled the world with wine they drank
Now tumble to the river bank
From crumbling castle walls.
The terraced pavements' privileged throng
United in their ***** song
Repeat the lyric 'what went wrong?'
On cypress-clad Olympus.