Dear sir or madame, I don't normally write to the press
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But the neighbourhood where I grew up is really quite depressed.
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Society is crumbling but the media's obsessed with boobs, bums,
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Dot com, millionaires, fame, fashion, footsie shares
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But people they couldn't care less.
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While parliamentary yobbos shout abuse around the house
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Do-gooders and reformers lead our nation to defeat.
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While murderers and terrorists get compassionate release
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You're out now. You're back on the street yeh, back on the street.
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That's why I remain yours truly, confused N10.
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I close my eyes and lay back and I think of England.
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I dream about that green and pleasant land we knew as England.
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That throne of kings, that sceptred isle set in a silver sea
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Has turned into a laughing stock divided without harmony.
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That's why I remain yours truly, confused N10
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The burglars have ransacked all the houses in the street
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While Mercs and Posches double park with sheer impunity.
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When towed away the ponces plead to all and sundry
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Referee what about me?
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So forgive my lack of confidence and total low esteem
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But the dog eat dog society has deemed us all has-beens.
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While our smiling bland spin doctors slyly lead us down the track
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to a stab in the back.
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I'm much too terrified to go out at night but the television's boring.
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They're vandalising all the cars on the street
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but I won't lay down and take defeat.
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That's why I remain yours truly, confused N10
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Thank you goodnight
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Yours Truly, Confused N10
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kinks |