With all these personal attacks,
with all those are being hauled over the racks.
When will it all stop,
When you find yourself on a Lot?
With posts, pins and lines,
drawing outlines of the crimes.
It was a great lurk for the sixties,
property never developed so quickly.
For less than a car would cost,
You could secure an own little plot.
might have been gravel on the way,
But its only the services that were gay.
And people were left alone,
encourgaed to own a phone.
Listened to the radio flicking beats,
And they often used their feets.
Theres no more teens marching down Burke,
Dressed as the cadet reserve.
No shining shoe – no sir man,
Or friendly social banter.
Just whinging whinning lots,
complaining of all their gots.
Holding on to their properties ways,
rather seeing it fall into decay.
I’d vote for those who preserve,
someone I feel – that would deserve.
a character for sure – who’s not wanting more,
Just a passion for lifting the floor.
Tweety and Big Bird got votes
Skippy and Blinky Bill tree’d mosts.
Dory and Lenny took the coasts,
while Perry dressed in plaid and ghosts.
I’d like a flaming horse to win,
who knows well – all the chargrin.
take a minute of pride, to help with the ride.
And rest up from being all tyered.
Hoarcewip Locwar