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

Queuing at the airport the flights non-stop
Off to Benidorm  in a football top
Pants three quarter, tattooed arms
Overweight Wife with ample charms

Check-in complete & straight to the bar
It’s only 6am but they don’t care
Their duty free stuffed in to Lidl bags
*****, whisky & 400 ****

They’re now half cut & the kids start to cry
They board the plane & they sit nearby
A 2hr flight with the family from hell
Hoping they’re not staying at your hotel

You’re all on the coach now & on your way
They smell of cigarettes & body spray
He turns around in a right old state
And slurs at you ‘Where ya staying mate’?

Through gritted teeth and raw contempt
You tell him the El President
‘Same as us’ he says with pride
Stretching his pants to squeeze his gut inside

The El President has lost its charm
My wife looks forlorn as she grabs my arm
As in the lobby with kids aloft
Are 100 more slobs in their football tops..

Please don’t move to Blackpool
You’ll only waste your time
These are things that I’ve found
To make you change your mind

I spent a year one day in Morecambe
A dreary night in Rhyl
But there’s nowhere worse than Blackpool
And I believe that still

A bunker out in Baghdad
A tent at Calais port
But there’s nowhere worse than Blackpool
The Fylde coasts ugly wart

A cruise ship full of Covid
A plane about to crash
But there’s nowhere worse than Blackpool
It’s ugly & it’s brash.

A cell in Bangkok’s Hilton
Chernobyl’s poisoned land
But there’s nowhere worse than Blackpool
This place I cannot stand

Brexit. Exit. There ain’t no turning back
Tear down the flag of Europe and hoist the Union Jack.
Throw out all the migrants, lock the borders down
Fill in the channel tunnel and watch the desperate drown

Brexit. Exit. We don’t need the EU
Krauts & Frogs & Belgians, telling us what to do.
Boris & his cronies are planning out our fate
You know that we can trust them to make our country great

Brexit. Exit what was that you say?
The interest rates are rising and you’ve had a cut in pay?
No-one wants to buy our goods the Pound falls through the floor
Boris has gone missing & Nigel’s locked his door

Brexit. Exit. Is this not what you planned?
Fighting with each other for this green and pleasant land?
Well there’s nothing left to fight for, our country’s turned to *****
As the last one leaves ‘Great Britain’ will you please turn off the light..

All we are is an epitaph
A few words on a stone
Some kind lines in a newspaper
From those we left alone

All we are is an epitaph
A pine box in a car
A favourite song at the service
A raised glass at the bar

All we are is an epitaph
A tear in someone’s eye
A happy time remembered
The very last goodbye

This house contains no laughter, although with children blessed
For the families favourite ‘uncle’ has caused a dark unrest
To the parents he’s a hero, who helps out in a thrice
But what he really has in mind is a most disturbing vice.

As the front door closes, & the children lie awake.
Up creeps their favourite uncle, their innocence to take
One stair & then another, he’s getting ever near.
An acrid smell then fills the room of cigarettes & beer.

‘How are my favourite children’? They now feel his hot breath
As he slips in bed beside them & starts to get undressed.
‘It’s just our little secret’; ‘you promise not to tell?’
Or mum & dad will punish you & lock you in a cell.

The children freeze with fear; they know just what to do.
Their favourite Uncle’s taught them well, they’ll have to see it through.
Maybe it’s the last time; they close their eyes & pray.
That their favourite uncle, will one day go away….