L o n d o n

It is to the graffiti wall we are pinned
False ideas floating among in the wind
The skinny jeans anthem, we chant
We still dress like an aunt.

Always walking round with that accent
A new one, at every corner bent.
Where are we from, really?
We are so malleable we sound silly.

We live under a thousand lights
Never have we learned city eclipses
Though you people should have seen
How cocaine biz is done in Alley Fifteen.

We need bucks to eat
So we sing jazz on street.
Math and Science can pay the rent
But it’s not that bad going cent by cent.

It is to a single soul we are bound
Our voices are of the same sound
London has come to be my mind
I am a creature of a thousand facets behind.