Dear sir or madame, I don't normally write to the press But the neighbourhood where I grew up is really quite depressed. Society is crumbling but the media's obsessed with b**bs, bums, Dot com, millionaires, fame, fashion, footsie shares But people they couldn't care less. While parliamentary yobbos shout abuse around the house Do-gooders and reformers lead our nation to defeat. While murderers and terrorists get compa**ionate release You're out now. You're back on the street yeh, back on the street. That's why I remain yours truly, confused N10. I close my eyes and lay back and I think of England. I dream about that green and pleasant land we knew as England. That throne of kings, that sceptred isle set in a silver sea Has turned into a laughing stock divided without harmony. That's why I remain yours truly, confused N10 The burglars have ransacked all the houses in the street While Mercs and Posches double park with sheer impunity. When towed away the ponces plead to all and sundry Referee what about me? So forgive my lack of confidence and total low esteem But the dog eat dog society has deemed us all has-beens. While our smiling bland spin doctors slyly lead us down the track to a stab in the back. I'm much too terrified to go out at night but the television's boring. They're vandalising all the cars on the street but I won't lay down and take defeat. That's why I remain yours truly, confused N10 Thank you goodnight