La Belle Epoque

It’ll be a cold day in hell
Before I return to Blackpool
The cold grey skies drenching us in gloom
Staggering on the sand, squalling children fell
And were dragged along by adults to shelter in the school
Canteen, where fish floundered in grease
And chips swam, oblivious to the doom
Of gaping, petulant mouths awaiting.
Pensioners barely took their ease
Down by Lloyds Bank
The wind attacked their flank
They shouted themselves hoarse.
The front was abandoned by pedlars and conmen;
On the black box in the Curry’s window,
Professor Cox, blithering “In’t it marvellous?”

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