Walking through the undertown

Where the shit is going down

Seems to me a foreign place

Somewhere not to show your face

Hide beneath a sweaty hood

Getting up to nothing good

Gardens full of broken things

Plastic bags and rusted swings

Dirty curtains always closed

Women stood in surly pose

Men all wear their sporty kit

Smoking ropy weedy shit

Drinking beer out on the street

Dropping empties at their feet

Youths like sticks patrol the streets

People I don’t want to meet

Looking down my snotty nose

I think that I’m not one of those

But then I look again and see

I always was, I’ve always been

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