Victoria's London

Take me back to when top hats were like business suitsWhen the white moths had become black with filthWhen the Thames was brown like the rotted teeth of beggarsAnd not just because of the mudWhen the Irish and the Slavic were exoticWhen London was BirminghamWhen Birmingham was LiverpoolWhen Liverpool was a country villageWhen there were millionsAnd yet they were still so innocently obliviousTake me to the city clothed in blackFor there was always a funeral somewhereLondonThe noisy factoriesAnd crowded slumsThe fear that the cold bringsThe pain that disease bringsThe real LondonThe honest LondonThe dark, deadly London of my nightmaresEvery narrow, dimly-lit alleyway dripping with piss and bloodFull of criminals and drunksOminous dark brown bricksThe suffocating stink that follows you wherever you goCursing, beggingLifting, cuffing, gaffing, looting, nicking, pinching, swiping, thieving, pilfering, pillagingHundreds of words for stealingWhere the poor are painfully poorWhere every woman that smiles at you is a prostituteCorpses lying in the streetsNext to gas lampsThe only beacons of lightPeople packed into bedrooms like chickensSleeping on the string
Highly disturbingBut it's best not to interfereFor someone else will deal with itIndustry and decency will save us all
There is no trace of that nowExcept the noble stone buildingsCommissioned by the corrupt
This is my fear and obsession
 
Category:Catalog