The train stops like slides with socks
Fifty percent of Londoners don’t know how to stop
the other half don’t know how to start
I move with all I’ve got but don’t move with enough
I don’t read enough books
I don’t breathe enough
I’m too hard on myself
and lacklustre dream chasers
It’s London.
All we have to do is
make it happen.
for two years I haven’t had a
good enough reason
to be leaving
constantly harassing me
while making it clear that
she doesn’t need me
We’ve concluded from recent reports that
seven out of ten londoners wear ipods
to ignore whatever street workers sell us
as soon as she walked in
all the noise of my head was deafened.
at Nineteen.
I met an American who was in love with
the city i lived in,
and proceeded to show me
a side of the city
I never knew existed
my world had expanded
beyond cricklewood
and west hampstead
did you know
one in three of all east london men
have handlebar moustaches?
and half of them talk out their arses.
His name was Johna,
He talked often
about the house boat he lived in
trips to india, said words like "eloquent"
played clash songs on the ukelele
had a perfectly trimmed stubble
and chatted up girls while calling them babe
I put my head down
as if he was talking that shit in a year room
and if i looked like I’m his friend
a portion of chips, beans and cheese
would also be thrown at my head
but no school dinners came
not even beats
he talked wank
and got off free-
in some ways
you could say
he inspired me.
