Poetry

 

TUBE PRIVATISATION is just like a cloud of golden daffodils or a couple of pints of laudanum to any decent poet, so bards London wide will be flocking to send their anti-privatisation odes, quatrains, haiku, sonnets, ballads, vilanelles and free-form drivel to this page. Don't miss this unique anti-capitalist cultural experience!


Fat Cat Sniffle (P.Murry)

 

The East London Line is a mighty fine line,

The East London Line is the line to ride,

The East London Line will all be mine,

´Cause I´m gonna buy it when it´s privatised. (CHORUS)

 

The East London Line got bright shining rails,

The East London Line got fast moving trains,

And when the passengers pay their fares,

Money´s gonna fall into my pockets like rain.


(CHORUS)


 

I´m gonna spend a little cash to keep the track safe,

Spend a little to keep the trains as clean as I can,

Don´t wanna see no pictures of accidents,

But I want my profits, I´m a mercenary man.


 

(CHORUS)


 

I´ll spend a little money to employ some staff,

But computers are better and people are worse,

So when you get mugged on a station late at night,

Don´t grieve too much, I mugged you first.


(CHORUS)




Tube 22 (Emile Sercombe)


When we run

the tubes we own

We won´t cut costs

Won´t over run

Won´t hit the buffers

Like the last lot


Of greedy duffers

Who´d have us

all on an eternal

travel mortgage

For our lifetimes


No, never be in hock

to that lot

Never like tonsured penitents

in obeisance

get caught

Paying

their inflated fares


Why

Would we ever

Go and sell

Our birthright

Trains and lines

and lives and souls to them?


For me

I´d sooner do essential engineering works

Down a saltmine

Every weekend





The Underground Song (Aubrey Bowman with Anne Schuman (Workers´ Music Asssociation))


 

North-bound or South-bound, East-bound or West, It´s our underground.

Country-bound or City-bound, over-ground or under-ground, London´s Underground.


 


From Barking through to Wimbledon, the tube train wends its way.

Our tube train repeats its journey, many times a day,

They wanted to privatise it then, but we said "No sell out"

And showed them where we all did stand with one united shout.


 

CHORUS:

So - No! No! No Privatisation,It´s our underground,

It´s just not for sale.Work-bound or pleasure-bound,

It´s London´s underground. It´s our underground.


 

From Finsbury Park to theatre-land and then to Hounslow West.

The train runs safely on it´s course, the drivers do their best,

That we´d be safe in profit´s hands is clearly quite insane,

Our tube is there for people´s use and not for profit´s gain.

CHORUS


 

The Elephant is pink we know, and Epping has its green.

Our underground connects the two, with other sights between.

Our London tube seves all of us; for it is London´s pride.

To keep our Tube for london Folk, We´ll sing our slogan wide.

CHORUS

 


They stole from us the telephones, and then they stole the gas.

The water too, the mines as well, they also stole from us.

And then they took our underground and split it zone by zone,

The underground belongs to us, we´ll claim it for our own.


 

LAST CHORUS

 

So - Stop! Stop! Stop privatisation,

It´s our underground.

It´s just not for sale.

Work-bound or pleasure- bound, It´s London´s underground.

It´s our underground.

Country-bound or City-bound, Over-ground or Underground,

London´s underground.

And it´s not, - not for sale.

No! No! No Privatisation.




TUBE (Emile Sercombe)


It´s the season

As the train goes by

The grain quickens

The rain and sunshine fall

And we aren´t talking isobars

and thermodynamics

Its what happens

Its what we feel


Next time the train passes

the wind blowing

the shining wheat in waves

isn´t performance art

or engineering

Its what happens

Its what we feel


The train goes by again

The wheat´s gone for threshing

and the hay lies waiting

This isn´t, well, anything much

Its just what happens

In the season


It works

Did, does, will.

Forever


But now I´m on the underground

in the dark unasked

do I mind paying twice to travel

Not like lithe wheat

More like gravel

dragged against the grain

Against all sense

Against the season´s proper job

Against what we expect to happen


And we don´t want an explanation

In isobars or thermodynamic calibration

Art or engineering

It´s the PPP

Its just what happens

We feel it

Going against the grain


It fails.

Did, does, will.

Forever.