Seagulls circle endlessly I sing silent harmony (as the they feast on redundant building materials deep inside the skip). Slim pickings among the timber, plaster and plastic. Move on, go over to Burger King or the bins by the fish and chip shop. Live in the civilized wild and forget your great fishing heritage as you scramble in and over the dry land waste. This is no longer your world to plunder, we've twisted it and broken the chain and you just suffer the ignominy of this miserable trashcan future. The humiliation of perpetual skip diving now that life no longer teems in the muddy dark waters.
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