My Street - Jane Taylor

Down on my street in a cafe

A young man is scribbling

Sipping a latte

Smokes his cigarettes down to

the core

Thinks he’s Satre

But he can’t write a birthday card

Across the street a girl with a smile

Talking on the telephone

Catches his eye

And she’s really an alien

You wouldn’t know

Dressed in an overcoat

Out incognito

They are only pretending

Down on my street

I’m not what I seem

And you could be anyone

If you know what I mean

Down on my street

They’re making it up

Right in front of you

But don’t be surprised

‘Cause you pretend too

'Round the corner

A couple in a fight

Kept the neighbours up