I’m sure there’s many things more fair:
The smell of burnt caramel nuts drift by
As gaggles of giggling chavs seek their destiny:
This City does, like a sweaty garment, wear
The beauty of the twilit evening; here
A perplexed gentleman from Mumbai tries
To take a photo; there, a baby's cry;
A tour party isn’t sure where is here.
The last rays of the sun beautifully peep
Round The Eye the South Bank lion ignores still.
The exhaust fills me with a lethargy so deep!
You stop and start and shamble still:
Dear God! will I ever get some sleep;
Unlikely. The bus has just been cancelled.
I’m sure there’s not many things more fair:
The smell of burnt caramel nuts drift by
As gaggles of giggling chavs seek their destiny:
This City does, like a sweaty garment, wear
The beauty of the twilit evening; there
A perplexed gentleman from Mumbai tries
To take a photo while the babies cry;
A tour party aren’t sure where is here.
The last rays of the most beautifully peep
Round The Eye the South Bank lion ignores still.
The exhaust fills me with a lethargy so deep!
You stop and start and shamble still:
Dear God! will I ever get some sleep;
Unlikely. The sodding bus has just been cancelled.
