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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