Sydney town is falling down
Falling down, falling down
Sydney town is falling down
My fair lady.
She sits atop Macquarie Street
An Empress of retrenchment
Encrusted in Armenian gold
Shedding fast the common weal:
The developers delight.
Golden plates are falling down
Falling down:
The family silver stacked on high
Felled into the streets.
No man was set to watch at night
And now the thieves in business suits
Have scooped that wealth into their vans
And registered again:
In marked stealth, its proper wealth.
To sell it back as private geld
Unto the Vanguard Queen
Who sits atop Macquarie street
My fair lady.
She sold it all so cheaply
Then bought it back with banker’s schemes.
Sydney town is falling down
Falling down, falling down:
An Empress of enchantment.
“Hurrah, hurrah”
Her members cry
And toast la charité
My fair lady.
The engineers were banished
From her mortal realm:
The laws of physics softened
(Sliced and diced) rampant consultants
Colic on their branding selves.
Now, elastic standards snap, expire
Beneath the riskless men of wealth
And their jolly bankers:
All regulation declines.
Sydney town is falling down
Falling down, falling down
My fair lady:
She barters with the commonweal
Plentifully pliable.
So buy the trains across the shores
Public safety bought to heel
That carriages might scrape the tunnels:
Private good infecting all, viral, unencumbered.
Friction in the air?
Only the stone cracking
Like Tolkien’s trees
Forced to revenge
Swallowing up the towers of mammon:
Loss engulfs the void
Each stake of nasty bloated greed
Driven underground
Foretells the death of water.
Dry and parched
Pock-marked in flammable facade
The Vanguard Queen
Sits atop Macquarie street
Sheer in the emperor’s clothes
So rigid in that smiling face
Handing out rewards to few
While serfdom beckons the enemy:
The army of shoddy buildings multiplies.
Sydney town is falling down
Falling down, falling down
Sydney town is falling down
My fair lady.
July 2019
Gar Jones
Falling down, falling down
Sydney town is falling down
My fair lady.
She sits atop Macquarie Street
An Empress of retrenchment
Encrusted in Armenian gold
Shedding fast the common weal:
The developers delight.
Golden plates are falling down
Falling down:
The family silver stacked on high
Felled into the streets.
No man was set to watch at night
And now the thieves in business suits
Have scooped that wealth into their vans
And registered again:
In marked stealth, its proper wealth.
To sell it back as private geld
Unto the Vanguard Queen
Who sits atop Macquarie street
My fair lady.
She sold it all so cheaply
Then bought it back with banker’s schemes.
Sydney town is falling down
Falling down, falling down:
An Empress of enchantment.
“Hurrah, hurrah”
Her members cry
And toast la charité
My fair lady.
The engineers were banished
From her mortal realm:
The laws of physics softened
(Sliced and diced) rampant consultants
Colic on their branding selves.
Now, elastic standards snap, expire
Beneath the riskless men of wealth
And their jolly bankers:
All regulation declines.
Sydney town is falling down
Falling down, falling down
My fair lady:
She barters with the commonweal
Plentifully pliable.
So buy the trains across the shores
Public safety bought to heel
That carriages might scrape the tunnels:
Private good infecting all, viral, unencumbered.
Friction in the air?
Only the stone cracking
Like Tolkien’s trees
Forced to revenge
Swallowing up the towers of mammon:
Loss engulfs the void
Each stake of nasty bloated greed
Driven underground
Foretells the death of water.
Dry and parched
Pock-marked in flammable facade
The Vanguard Queen
Sits atop Macquarie street
Sheer in the emperor’s clothes
So rigid in that smiling face
Handing out rewards to few
While serfdom beckons the enemy:
The army of shoddy buildings multiplies.
Sydney town is falling down
Falling down, falling down
Sydney town is falling down
My fair lady.
July 2019
Gar Jones
