A Kid Among Age-Comers
He's up and coming, yuppie humming,
Down and puppy low.
He's high and drying, dancefloor-flying,
Under miles of snow.
We love him, we love him, we want him to be fine,
Want him hanging from his legs inside the sucker's vine.
He's jungle crawling, urban sprawling,
Wedged tween grizzled stone.
The horror high windows, dark doors jackdawed,
Bus-pass rattled bones.
Dance boy dance,
in the carriage of the cage,
Run carnage round the turkey-neck track.
Sing boy sing,
Do as you should be doing,
Climb headless up the cracks of the cash sack.
A new kipper to whip,
New boy to toy with,
A new fellow in town without nowt.
Nowt but his learnings,
Big feels and small earnings,
And a small voice with which he can't shout.
He's up and coming, yuppie humming,
Got so far to go.
He's high and drying, dancefloor-flying,
Alone in dark lane, all aglow.
Copyright ©
James Brown
|