There's still a hint of menace in the air from the
tapas bars that seem to spring up everywhere and
on
Electric Avenue,
there's few would argue 'bout that.

The night not flat but straight line curved, and keep your eyes peeled,hyenas prowl,stiletto heeled,
Coldharbour harbours much.

A touch of music and my eyes slant,
might catch a glimpse of Eddy Grant,
Once,
the new messiah with tunes to set the world on fire.

Mo's the man to go and see
(what you mean the guy with the Masters degree?)
that's the dude,
can chew up words and swallow them and yet the humblest of the humble men,
find him down
the Brixton Soup Kitchen
no whining,*******' ,
just getting on with it,in the thick of it
serving to his brothers,sons and fathers,mothers, sustenance,initiative indeed to live and give and love and feed.

You may think you've seen it all
but
you ain't seen nothing yet
not until
you get down Brixton way
see what the guys there do and say.
pure gold.