I live in a town which is far from the normal
I have a name for where I live I call it bedlam
And everyone know where I mean.
It's somewhere where the dreams get lost and replaced by garbage
Bags, and the streets are filled with belly tops and jogging bottoms.
The woman were their hair up high and big hoop earrings the men are
No better with there basketball caps and jeans down round the knees.
The fighting starts on a Friday night and over flood the streets the house all go very still as you see the peeks peeking out their heads to see who has gotten the
Boot.
I live in a place that I call bedlam and for good reason to, the burning car out side my door tell you the truth about where I live and for my sins I have to live here to.
You don't leave yourdoor unlocked for any reason at all, and never
Go outside at night.
I have a special name for where I live and if you live here to then I need not
Say anymore as you would understand when I say I live in bedlam.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
jolly, o jolly are the folks where you live in the bedlam why not join them for a night and see how great fun they are drunk, high on pot, bellyful of beer how charming, how carefree they are not like the folks grouching indoors like prisoners but free as birds loitering the streets they are