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
