Opera

Years ago
Up in London
Covent Garden
I stood
Singing those sweet love songs
Just cos I could

My friend her guitar
A soprano was she
We sang for our supper
For a nice pot of tea
Jasmine or sencha
Or genmaicha
Hitting the high notes
Travelling far

We made sixty old pounds
Some clapped,
some jeered
Opera
on the placement
Yea it seemed weird
So close to the real stars
And us on the street
Like mice in a way
Trying hard to compete