Mushroom, and tarragon soup
Christopher what's come over you
Is it the Suffolk sea air
That is getting near to your inner truth
On the pier at Southwold
Above the waving waves
That travel from the Nuclear power station
To way beyond the newly built sea defences
All pretence of summer is indefensible
Under the grey-black, black-grey skies
All thoughts of English holidays reprehensible
For teenagers who share their lover’s cries
