Summer in Edgware is just the same as winter
So are Spring and Autumn.
Still the same rows of houses detached, semi-detached and not "tached" at all
Not a tree in sight to show its leaves or not.
The traffic roars along the Edgware Road,
Dominating everything.
Rows of shop windows with flats overhead
The smell of fish and chips at least twice on each side.
At night everything changes; the traffic almost ceases
Car lights on Brockley Hill can be seen three miles away
Now gangs of yobs roam along back streets,
Gambling and fighting and smashing all in sight.
At night shop windows are broken, bottles and street lamps,
Lads are done over or pushed in the Silk Stream.
In the early hours of the morning all is still, the yobs have gone home
But as morning advances all comes back to normal