DontRunMeOver

Some people take a sense
Of pride in where they live
For others, it defines their sense of self

For me, my local conditions
Are more a war of attrition
A battle for my sanity and health

There’s litter on the pavement
It’s never cleared away
The broken glass is evidence of fights

The vandals and the drunkards
Keep the streets in disarray
I wake to sirens every other night

Its not much of a place
Its not much of a place
Its not much of a place
Its not much of a place

But I call it home
I call it home
Its not much of a place
But I call it home
I call it home
Its not much of a place
But I call it home

There’s a rat down by our dustbin
He eats with trepidation
Perhaps he thinks we’re carrying disease

There’s a double decker bus
Its pulled up right outside my window
Now the passengers are peering in at me

Its not much of a place
Its not much of a place
Its not much of a place
Its not much of a place

But I call it home
I call it home
Its not much of a place
But I call it home
I call it home
Its not much of a place
But I call it home

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