We call it Urbex – that's urban exploration A modern manifestation of the primeval need to discover Not content to walk on rugs under which the dirt is swept Instead we pull back the cover Wielding handheld flash-lights with ragged trackie-dacks And stacks of fat sacks of sandwiches in our backpacks We go deep into the drains where the darkness gets colder The water levels rising but our steps never falter We smile to our sides at the paint on the wall There's artful masterpieces next to meaningless scrawls Sit and chill under the grill from which sickly light spills Have our fill, what do we feel? I don't want to sit still See the drain on the wall, small: we call it a feeder It's not the main feature radius of half a meter One of us climb in so we follow the leader Let's see where this tiny tunnel can lead us Both hands on the floor as we crawl under the city Means no more for the torch; that's a pity Surrounded underground hear the sound of cars from the surface Of scum-skimmers driving round with no purpose Hands start to hurt we've been crawling for ages In dank, dirty air you can literally taste it, feeling suffocated Face it, we won't make it, my heart's racing, there's no escaping, we'll have to turn back But as our suffocated spirits start to slip We see ahead in the distance the tip Of a halo of light, showing us the way out It's been a great trip but I wanna see the light of day now At the end of the journey, wanna collapse but not yet Brace against the concrete, push with all that we've got left Climb out onto the gra**, scrambling on the morning dew Emerging from the dirt in the middle of Northbourne Avenue