Violent splashes of survival,
Thriving through cracks in walls
And drab pavement slabs
The City's lungs losing their bark,
As they choke down its gargling soup

Pigeons dining out on spew
Left behind by someone who,
Had one too many over their few
Whilst the parakeets' sudden startling screech,
Almost knocks small ones off-a their feet

The Capital Fox on the prowl,
After the wanton sun goes down
With rats on their runs
And bats that swoon,
Underneath a full,
And gloriously mesmerising,
Metropolitan moon

Then humans who pass by,
Without a care or blink of eye
Detached from the very thing,
That provides with everything
On their driven blinkered course,
Until finally forced to stop and flag,
Their timely fateful hearse