I hear this horrible sound
Like a child shouting
And I wonder where it is

I hear a horrible warble
Hanging in the air
And I wonder what it is

I hear the worst sound imaginable
Soaring through the night
And I wonder why I can hear it

Then I find out what it is
It’s a fox crying
And I wonder why it is
Crying
And then realise
It’s just nature

The house is so quiet
That I’m forgetting to breath
My blinds are blowing inwards

I can hear ringing in my ears
And a drone of talking outside
The breeze is very beautiful

Music is playing somewhere
Loud and without care
As I sit here typing

A crescendo of surburban bliss
Not caring or not working
I best go to sleep soon

The offices of Moore’s and Booths
Celebrate a hundred years together
Extortion and unholy blackmail
With a reputation for hell and leather
Mr Bartlow is the almighty pariah
Running a criminal show
Twelve of his deadly disciples
Follow wherever he may go
Like leech’s in a river
And mosquitos in the sun
They **** the nations blood dry
Then declare it to be fun

Tired, tried and tested but clearly undigested
All rolled into my life
The noise and the poise
Of a field of irrevelant prose
Blinkered splintered and unnaturally tinkered
Changing perception after time
A movement of a passing train
Mimicks my flowing existence
Rain on my fence thick and dense
Makes the world seem so dull
A gentle stroll and the howling wind
Seems somehow very fulfilling
Crickets buzzing through the thickets
Take me to my child hood lost
Ice cream cold served on a cone
Gives me a shiver of enjoyment
A child of a sinner now a lottery winner
Fills me with a sense of belief

Im pulsating and vibrating
My limbs are hung clumsily to the floor
In the depths of my geriatric science lab
Im watching circles swirling in the door

My skin is bubbling like chip fat
The hairs in my nose have grown long
Flowing down my body like a spaniel locks
Flames are now engulfing my tongue

All muscles are beginning to twitch
Major organs have swelled up inside
I’m like a modern day Dr Jekyll
Trying to contain his Mr Hyde

Why did I drink that potion
I’m viewing lighting bolts in my eye
There must be better ways these days
Of winning a nobel prize

Dark, murky with a diseased unhealthy look
Watch the face of a bemused greying fisherman
As a grey slimy boot emerges dangling precariously on his long wiry hook

Watch the ball slowly gliding along the goo
All mysterious and completely carefree
Hoofed in by a child’s clumsy ***** shoe

A tyre tangled up in the reeds lair
And one can’t help wondering
What vehicle did it live on and where

Ducks swimming discussing the weather
They quarrel and fight then run along
Squatting lazily underneath trees and broken heather

In the estates and the towns of smoke
Into the water with their sticks
The kids excitedly poke

On a bridge a gent walks his shaggy dog
He watches the grey clouds
That mingle amongst rainy fog

Rippled water like a shirt not ironed and awkwardly creased
And under its depths
Hide ghosts of the past and of the deceased

Is it so terribly rude of me
To say I couldn’t care
About this royal wedding *******
That’s hanging in the air

The fancy hats and celebrity suits
That flock round the regal brood
Spouting posh words and fancy nothingness
Really put me off my food

Not content with stealing the limelight
Theyve even wangled the sun
Scarcely a drink seen in the palace grounds though
Do they really call that fun

Here’s to Harry and Miss Markel
But sadly I won’t be sharing your day
Cause I’m a gritty moaning northerner
With far to much to say

Oh there is bit of excitement
Elton johns just dropped a *** of money
And a pigeon has flew down and nicked it
Now that is really quite funny