Welcome to the monster function ball,
Left past New Pimlico on the Lea,
In our 21st century rat-house
(For one year’s London budget paid fully).
A merry land of delight and doughy eyes
In Europe’s latest hemisphere,
Thrust up to public skies.
Tonight – the gilded flesh is reverse falling!
As gowned dolphins – and the Mastercard masque –
Redoubt in nature’s, nocturnal unfolding.
Pre-digital delicacies recast our superior prime
And swing replete, above
Where gonged worthies creak and shine.
Aye, it took some time to get here
Past the r’established outlands.
Because London’s legacy’s a gas!
The 100 metre finish line:
Forever in our hearts
So hydrophobic now, this broken Britain.
Still there? I’ll take you by the hand between the stalls:
Here’s our London mayor,
So brave he defeated Jason for the fleece.
There’s Irvine Sellar
The man who built the Shard,
Singing: ‘shardfox homage’
He’s such a card.
To the right, Lady Brooks resurrected against Medusa,
Monsieur Breivik’s reprogrammed mime
And a fresh faced Blair40,000 (thought to be asinine).
London refound its feet, alright,
As the world’s wealthy forsook walking
And everyday since we’ve been getting stronger.
Homo sapiens, we’re nearly there yet!
Only 20 per cent in prison.
Yes, total law enforcement proved a tad destructive
So last summer we armisticed the dyslexics –
Hence the creative underclass...
Don’t you love the smell of plus fair justice?
It’s Forty years back to the race
When nails grew sparking
For the gun’s blast
And shop worn trivialities turned holy
Between the Volkswagened Sabbath chat
Of London’s mortgaged class.
Visitors, are you happy?
We’ve learned so much from you
And each day refashioned ourselves less human,
Barring our sacred, infernal
To be one day reunited as cosmic flotsam.
Sport! Now I must rejoin the night
Leaving life in your hands more light.
Thanks, that’s very kind.
But for me:
‘I don’t pay for water’