Early every morning
Swooping squawking birds
Leave their liquid calling cards
Before the street has stirred
Where people in their track suits
Drink to overload
And stagger to their rented rooms
Down Blackpool’s Crystal Road

Where the road sweeper doesn’t sweep
And no one comes to call
Except for black clad bailiffs
Who come to take it all
The druggies & the drinkers
Share the one abode
To take away the misery
Of life on Crystal Road

The seedy little B&B’s
Fight to rent their rooms
Sharing each other’s bathroom
Sharing each other’s gloom
Screaming kids and drunken louts
Your eardrums will explode
It’s a sure way into madness
When you stay on Crystal Road

The wind blows like a hurricane
The rain falls like a flood
Washing away the *****
The debris & the blood
The hens are ****** the stags are too
They’re all in party mode
Throwing up and having ***
In rooms on Crystal Road

A *******’s bar called ‘Paradise’
At one end of the street
Full of seedy little men
And women with no teeth
A food bank at the other
Feeds those with no abode
But even they refuse to stay
In a house on Crystal Road

A B&B in Brighton
It’s only 30 quid
We turn up at reception,
We wonder why we did

The place is dark and dismal
The lobby stinks of death
The owner nearly knocks us out
With her stinking breath

We have to share a bathroom
With Deirdre & Stan
**** stains on the toilet seat
Skid marks in the pan

The room is small & pokey
There is a smell of damp
The TV is about the size
Of a 1st class postage stamp

The landlord smells of cigarettes
His wife smells of B.O.
The whole place smells of fry-ups
We just can’t wait to go

There's still
a part of me in London-
I left it in my dingy block
on Deptford High Street.
Another part of me still
remains in St James Park,
somewhere in the flowers
and another somewhere in
the markets of Camden Town.
I don't think it'll ever leave.

From the East Coast of Ireland to the Lowlands of Scotland,
a well-trodden path,
Grandma going to Whiteinch Baths,
to do the family laundry,
And to take my Auntie for a swim,
the black and white photos look a bit grim.

She mispronounces certain words.
When you put your dinner in between some bread,
she'd look at you, dead, and say,
"If yis waanted sangwhiches, I'd have made yis sangwhiches!"

And, "you're very pass-remarkable,"
I think it means you're quick to comment on others,
my Mother's also from Glasgow,
and doesn't know why Grandma speaks like that,
so this isn't just me being a Sassenach,
or a daft English ****.

25th of January is Burns Night,
serve the neeps, tatties, a glass of fizz,
and of course, some Haggis.
Some say offal's awful,
but I just can't get enough of the stuff.

A firm favourite of our clan is a creamy dessert named Cranachan.
Topped with berries and a splash of whiskey,
you can guarantee a thumbs up from me.

The ancient family tartan is red and blue,
then there's the family crest too,
a knight with a shield under a tree,
I think it represents gallantry.

I sometimes wish I had a proper Scottish name,
like Hamilton, Douglas, or McCain,
don't suppose it matters,
at least I can understand the patter,
(that means joke or language.)

A saying about saving your coins,
"Mony a mickle macks a muckle,"
always makes me chuckle.

"Does it, aye?"
is a very dry reply,
used to take the **** and can be easy to miss.

When my Mum was younger, the family liked to roam,
but when she visits Glasgow,
she says it feels like home,
her voice even changes when she's on the phone.

Sounds English most of the day,
then my Auntie calls, and she's on her way,
"Haud ye weesht!" when she picks up the phone,
that means be quiet,
but you wouldn't have known,
that isn't her normal speaking tone.

Scottish family,
some are distant to me,
but through my parentage,
it's nice to have the heritage.

Covid-19,
this all seems like some dystopian dream.
The PM’s on TV,
saying he’s shutting down the country.

It’s like watching Sci-Fi,
protective equipment is in short supply,
we need to keep our distance,
there’s even been resistance to this.

People flocked to Cheltenham,
over 250,000 of ‘em.
The crowd was big at the Stereophonics gig,
Have a Nice Day,
critics say they should have stayed away.

No gatherings in parks,
panic sparks mass buying,
people are crying because they can’t get their medication.

Stay home,
some people are alone which limits the spread to other people,
but it’s probably not good for their mental health,
despite their wealth,
celebrities are just like you and me.

“Imagine all the people,”
okay, maybe not,
easier to isolate in a 200-acre estate,
behind a giant steel gate.

Two-weeks in quarantine,
nervous wait between infection and symptoms,
not enough testing machines to screen for this unseen virus,
most pull through which inspires us.
others don’t,
they were real people who fell ill,
not a number on a spreadsheet.

There was some negativity,
but people have the capacity to come together,
free taxi rides for NHS staff,
putting in the graft,
but they didn’t sign up for the draft.
They’re health professionals working to the bone,
staying away from home adds to the stress.

People reassess what it means to be important,
Key-workers,
not high earners but they still went to work to serve us,
when all this is done,
Remember that in years to come.

If the majority of your office work is done via computer,
you don’t have to be a commuter.
Work from home, no need to travel into town,
Zoom remotely in your dressing gown,
Microsoft Teams,
sending each other memes via Slack,
keeping it all on track,
maybe this could be permanent once life goes back?

Taking an online course,
attacking a new hobby with great force,
exercise, art supplies,
devise fun games with chalk on concrete,
liven up the street.

Rainbow pictures,
reading your scriptures,
video chat with your Nan in her flat,
shopping for your neighbour,
donating to food banks,
giving thanks.

This will pass,
the new normal will be different,
but we’ll be content because we won’t take things for granted,
hopefully.
Emotionally it’s been rough,
turn that frown around once it’s safe to leave Lockdown.

Saturday night, I feel the air is getting hot,
gearing up for some pre-drinks,
then heading into Notts.

Round to my mates,
he's already playing Dance Classics by Kisstory,
an insight into British club history in all its glory.

The splendour of The Hacienda,
Fabric sounded magic,
the thrills at Turnmills.

Blasting out Where Love Lives by Alison Limerick,
Too Young To Die by Jamiroquai,
and Sounds of Eden by Shades of Rhythm.

It gets you in the mood,
of course it does, how can it not?
We sit around talking a lot,
then login to Facebook,
see which bars are offering what,
pound-a-pint and half-price shots.

Text around,
who else is in town?
We'll give you a shout once we get to Revolution,
the club solution is Oceania.

Disco floor,
we know the bouncers on the door.
Cut the queue,
annoying for everyone else,
but you would do it too.

Throwin' shapes with my mates all night,
break-dancing, the robot, pop n' lock until two o'clock,
a bunch of geeks,
we're too ****** to care about critiques.

Anyway, we're having a good time,
a bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime,
a few shots of Sambuca,
I'm doing fine.

I'm starving, time to get some food,
ravenous,
it's a whole mood,
into the nearest takeaway,
look at the display,
ten-inch pizza, or just some fries? Maybe both?

I'll go for a Kebab, chicken and salad, with added Mayo,
let's go,
there's a party starting nearby,
people getting high with a constant supply.

It's getting light out,
people are asleep around my feet,
time to leave,
walking back from the city,
this place looks pretty with the morning dew and light layers of fog,
one ******* runner out for a jog.

Later that day, a bit hungover,
I swear I'm never going to drink again,
well, not for a few weeks anyway,
maybe next weekend,
if there's another night-out, I might attend.

Might?
What a load of *****.
I'm definitely going and show no signs of slowing down,
that point will come,
but for now, I'm still young,
just go out and have some fun.

So, up to Liverpool,
pretty cool,
I've got family there, and I'm trying to find my bearings.

When I was a kid I went with my Auntie to the Adelphi Hotel,
I remember it well,
so that's where I'll start, move my feet,
it's a quick walk to Bold Street.

Everyone flocks to the Albert Docks,
regenerated, updated, and has created a vibrant corner of a once-thriving port city,
which is pleasing,
the only downside is it's ****** freezing!

The nights out are decent too,
this where Liverpool really pulls through.
Matthews Street, can't be beat,
or Concert Square,
where, you head to Baa Bar for some shots and a few jars.

Then onto Nation with the rest of Liverpool's student population,
going down to Wolstenholme Square,
great memories, shame it's no longer there.

Capital of Culture, lots to explore,
the council wants to restore the city centre,
Liverpool One is second to none.

New shops to buy our Fred Perry tops,
new bars to entertain us,
new places to wear our smart Adidas trainers.
A modern shopping centre to walk through,
have they really called it Everton Two?

Girls off to the supermarket with their hair up in rollers and wearing their PJ's,
funny looks on the face of people who are new to the place.

Lads in black Lacoste trackies,
in the 1980s they came back from the continent after European success,
wearing Fila and Ellesse,
it was called casual,
the style went national.

A city of myths legends,
some more tongue in cheek but still unique.

A sock robber from Kirkby,
is it the original Cavern Club? Well, to a degree.
What about Carragher's tattoo?
He's blue born and bred,
is Paul McCartney actually dead?

I know it's a clichè, but I must say,
it isn't a mere rumour,
there is undoubtedly a Scouse sense of humour,
wordplay and the inflexion on the things they say.
A witty city that's for sure, come and visit,
you'll have everything you need and more.

In times of crisis
We’re all a bit lifeless
this Corona virus
Spreading minus bias

Isolated from all
government protocol  
So I sit, and I scrawl
head to wall, long haul

I get it... I do.
I fear my mind will stew
Clinging to screws
“Don’t come loose”

But to be sincere
Only one thing is clear  
Can’t wait to see’r
I need her near

Waves of sadness
Two metre madness
A Surprising vastness
Our towns a blank canvas

In times of of crisis
We rely on kindness
And I’m indecisive
But right now priceless

Our mobile devices  
...****

No one on this wet rock is self-made
they all got fat with a safety net,
foundations laid
by mothers and fathers who gave
time, lives, thought, truths
so we can do what we do

It’s this we should continue

Let those who can
burn bright and earn,
that’s fine, they’ll cope
but your concern should be
the bedrock beneath us

Your every task should be to
feed, clothe, educate and make safe.

If you want Great,
supposed lost,
fulfil your role as public servants,
right and honourable,
that’s the only real cost