Burroughs Crescent
Burroughs Crescent the shape of, the shoe of a horse,
My childhood lived there, a par for the course
A friend Andrew Brennon his C-64
Hungry Horrace, some Pac-Man but wanting much more
The Foxes on the corner, the 3 of them bitched
about Gordon and Michael, and me in a ditch
The popular girls at Clayton's nearby
they'd backstab and *****-fight, an eye for an eye
The weaker of the kids who frequented that school
were always their prey, me too, what a fool
I was weak as a kitten and wet as the rain,
I look back on those days, I want to refrain
From being a weakling and being so wet,
so easy to cry first, and be teachers pet
"Stand up for yourself" would ring in my ears
from parents and strangers, but mostly from peers
A wish that I have now, to go back in time,
To know what I know now, and correct the crime
Of being so easy to push and to shove
to embrace my beliefs and practise self love
But back to the Crescent, it wasn't all bad
the green out the back, didn't make me so sad
Was a place to play football, and have a good time
with my friends from the Crescent, we'd lay there in line
While we took it in turns, to jump bodies with ramps
and cheap 80's bikes that were pretty much pants
As a road to grow up in, it was never the worst
I learnt from it's lessons, and haven't felt cursed
An adult I know, they were pretty good times
looking into the future, the pathway is lined
With foundations of solid, and robust footholes
guiding me down the right path, and shielding my soul.......
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