The great British mistake was looking for a way out, Was getting complacent, not noticing The pulse was racing. The mistake was fighting. The change, was staying the same. It couldn't adapt so it couldn't survive, Something had to give. The people take a downhill slide into the gloom. Into the darn recesses of their minds.
I swoop over your city like a bird. I climb the high branches and observe. Into the mouth, into the soul. I cast a shadow that swallows you whole. I swoop, I climb, I cling, I suck,