London Syndrome

London you have torn me in two

An abusive lover, indifferent to my pain

But I still want you.

I hate the pace you set on life

The rushing, anonymous crowds

But I want their recognition.

You lock me out of your plazas

And price me out of the culture I helped create

But I still come knockin’.


What are you promising, exactly?

Anything at all? Or nothing.

For I never found my way

Along your busy streets

You never sheltered me or held me

In your deep bosom.


Our traumatic bond, London

It is all I have known, London

I am afraid to go, London

But I am more afraid to stay.


So fuck you, London. We’re finished!


(But you’ll take me back if I wanna come home right?)

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