Making it up as I go along

Never paid for the pitch but sold shit to the tourists East down in Shoreditch and later in Petticoat Lane I sold shit again made a bundle then trundled off home. Life’s getting hard for the twopenny bard and it’s looking like rain so I’ll sell shit again on the fly. By the by or…

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Two rivers

The prophecy borne out by a faith that is torn out when the City boys shout out the markets are down.   The future was here and now it has gone and gone and gone and it goes on and on, one minute or a moment for torment, either way tomorrow which never comes is…

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