This is obviously Pigeon Street

 Coo, coo, Ha, Haa, Ho, ho, He, he,

The slap and tickle the cackle free

Of turned up turnips

Tourniquet, tie around

a dignified neck

Telescopic voice calls out

Not a laugh, but a shout

You've reached the corner

Now turn about

back onto Pigeon Street

Real lives turn fake

Taken pride, prison cake

Somewhere within you find

The key to 15 Pigeon Street

Now yours, now his,

This wide eyed blink

Can you believe no Kitchen sink?!

Can you cry out, what drought, what drought,

Its dry on Pigeon Street

Come pour with rain

Come fill your pain

With Tears so distant they

Fall in vain

When windows blow

The prison cell

You'll know too well

You're living on Pigeon Street

Two eyes collide

head on with stuff

Graveyards, bones

Now I scoff at

Flies inside the beggar's belly

Calling out for Pigeon Street

Reading lines from long lost poems

Who wrote the Mayans

When they last wrote Home

Because they died because they lived

In the house on Pigeon Street

Railings cold, and trailers scuffed

Tears dry on tombes

You learnt your books off

And libraries close

And Roman roads all lead

to Pigeon Street

Coo, coo, Ha, ha, hee, hee

Hoo, ho

You know you are a prisoner now

Your keys are gone

but thought lives on

Inside the cracks on Pigeon Street

Take heed my friend

It does not end

That road which leads from here

there wends

When the light is gone

And all is cold

You know you've reached the pigeon road

And there no friend

One may meet

Unless its to ask

Is this Pigeon Street