London

I’m looking for inspiration

But I can’t stop this perspiration

Does relief lie

In the dirty streets

Or in your hearts sweet fire

What will I be

A great, a lord or a rockstar

A pawn star, broker or lawyer

My documents of production advisory might one day sum up

To a dreary grave in a crowded jungle plot

Can we give the people a way to breathe

And some freedom to dream

A smile

And a little time on the fatty cream

The drudge of commuting in smog

Mind can’t seem to shake this fog

Can we live in hope and not in fear

Of aging or balding or drowning in tears

How do we get around

Without making the atmosphere scream

The man in the factory

Says that what we’re printing today

Is keeping the planet spinning

Telling the stories of the way

We went from dirt to coal power

Killed all the flowers

But now we’ve got this cool tower

How the control room thinks for itself now

Give it our thoughts we will cower

Let’s congregate for pints and lyre

Share prayers, wares and fears

There isn’t much left to desire

When the world is on fire

Are we interrupting something

Or is it natural to be this quiet

I can’t hear the birds sing

And the trees appear to going on a diet

Is it liberating to be with humanity

Scrolling in spare moments to get some clarity

Head up for some parity

Stay humble when I grumble

A cloud of smoke out my lungs might tumble

The bogey man and me should have a mumble

But my idea of fun

Is to take it on the chin

Get into the mountains of our heart

Play it loud and feel the rumble

Looking ahead from the misery

For the next generation

I see a leafy suburb corner apartment

A glass of white wine on the roof of your favourite shopping department

Somewhere to keep my heart safe

Inside your necklace locket

What can we afford

Baby but we might get bored

What if we gave away our clothes

Would the heat of the world get just a little more cold?

Could it make us feel bold

Or give us a one way ticket to wrinkles of old

Whatever the tonic is

I don’t know how it’s being sold

We’re living like rats

Sex and the city, that's what we’re told