Sirens rang through the night, but sirens ring out
Through every night. I’d watched grainy newsclips of Tottenham
Burning to the ground but I felt detached. Sure I used to live in Enfield
A stone’s throw away from the chaos.
But come morning light a different sight is going to have me up at night
This aint my home town, but it’s where my home is right now
So doesn’t that give me the right to call Brixton my own town?
These sentences came with a frown so I put my feet to the ground
Just to see what kind of shit was actually going down.
Upon the windows of consumer dream stores erected wooden boards
Tried to hide the spider web glass and gaping sharp holes.
Three letter chicken joint closed on a Monday, chairs stacked on tables
Beneath darkened light bulbs, no chicken eaten, no money taken.
But money will be spent on this burden of madness. The proud Bobbies
Standing with proudness – no gladness, while the community hangs its head with sadness.
Out in front of the clothing store, two letters its brand,
Joined together with an ampersand squats smashed and broken, this token left
By over – zealous ‘youths’ hurling ‘missiles’ through windows.
And we watch our capital fall to pieces as the leeches in government
Supplement their insanity by shitting on the people.
A burnt out shop front of a popular sports and clothing chain
Became another victim in a vicious, endless game
Left out front the enforcers of law behind their red tape, their blue tape
Their yellow tape cordon off the brutality of the city’s rape.
It’s fate sealed from the idle thumbs on the igniters of 50pence lighters
Highlighting the gluttony, the covetousness of those who seek to profit from tragedy.
And what do the people do? Why… they stand around peripheries
Photographing everything there is to see. And me? What else is there to do but scream?
My hands feel dirty, though all I do is observe, I stand back and watch those watching those
Who take photos.
All standing around having a laugh, this daft brass pointing here and there.
Taking names, busting faces irrespective of colour, incomprehensible of races.
What a bunch of rats. What a bunch of haters.
And news reports speak of escalating violence for a third night of Anarchy in the UK.