The youngsters traipse and arm in arm
Trying not to be too alarmed
The enter pubs they smell of fear
When they awake they reek of beer

They are young and wont to drink
By day they fill a page with ink
Such a pure unrefined joy
It is to be a girl or boy

They cover the streets as they walk home
(In groups, very seldom alone)
With ***** and ***** and chip wraps
They deserve a jacket with straps.