Layered Cake

Layered Cake

I’ve known many unsavory characters from my home city of Manchester

There’s the ex-demolition guy who took a great dislike to me

Did he have visions of blowing me up instead of my old car?

He had a trainee apprentice in the wings and had connections

I knew several football hooligans who fought for what?

For England, their home team, themselves, for violence?

Each told me a story of Rah-Rah-Rah Here We Go Lads!

One fought riot cops in Poland and was jailed in a sanatorium

He somehow escaped and was banned from Poland for life

The other was a City fan and battled his opponents in Greece

He was 45 and still loved a good tear up on match days

Drug dealers prominently featured in the city and surrounding towns

One dark night in my home town I saw an ex-dealer shot dead  

I heard then saw the BMW getaway car zoom off

Oddly I thought I heard two gunshots after it had gone

The ex-dealer’s wife asked me to help and I tried to

But there was nothing I could do but call the medics

Chavs are the worst in my town and others

Council House And Violent and ruling the tough estates

With their violence, crime, dealing and other acts

Not going to school or college but sleeping all day

And drinking and smoking weed all night with their underage gals

But when do they have time to do their crimes?

There are the plastic gangsters who think they’re it

Maybe with their mates they can burst a paper bag

Or intimidate innocent law abiding citizens who are meek

Further afield I met a gangster in Liverpool who was alrite

He liked a right tear up and had a job to appear legit

But his real work was in various things like drugs, guns and cash

He offered me a job as a courier because my car was old and gray

I said no for its easy in and never ever out

The English racists were a breed apart who hated all skins

I got on with one who liked metal but we clashed on views

He loathed foreigners and wanted them all out

And insisted that white men stick to white women

Most scary of all I met a killer on the run in Newcastle

We were on the ship disco by the river having fun

This guy had a real flirty wife called Carmen

I danced with her and later talked to her husband

He schitzed out and went mad but not for chatting with his gal

I asked what’s wrong and he admitted to killing a man

And said he didn’t know me from Adam so be quiet!

He was a Londoner and I said you did it for your own reasons

His wife consoled him when he had flashbacks

Ex-servicemen gave me a few problems over the years

I was drinking in my local pub when a para and a marine argued

First with one another and then with me over who was best

They hated the air force and me wearing an Air Force badge

Maybe they needed a war to get their heads blown off?

There were many fighters who lived to fight and cause trouble

Some had a go at me I tried to avoid their skills but heard their stories

Some were nutters but others quite pally and fine lads

There were brawlers, boxers, Martial Artists and more

Near the Mess House pub in Oldham guys die by a single punch

These savory and unsavory characters were the fabric of England

Some I remember and many I forget for right or wrong reasons

Their stories live on here my poem for you to judge