A Cold Bedroom Estate

The residents of Park Hall, Mansfield Woodhouse (where I live) have lost the appeal by Barratts Builders to build a bedroom estate at the back of us. I was so disappointed I put pen to paper and wrote this song (to the tune of 'when a knight won his spurs in the stories of old').

They’re building a city at the back of our yard,
Well ain’t it a pity, life’s gonna be hard,
For the Hedgehog and Bats and the Buzzard and Fowl,
They’re building a city so, to hell with the Owl.
A Suburban city is this what we dream,
As we all wait in line for the Planner Man’s scheme?
Dying to turn into poor mortgage slaves?
At four percent interest till we rot in our graves.
. There once was a time when the rent it was fair,
And we all had a house from the Council to share,
Till along came the bullies and Barrister men,
The Corporate Cannibals have done it again.
You can call me a ‘Nimby’- ‘Not in My Back Yard,’
But what’s wrong with that when we’re making life hard,
For the Badgers and Field Mice and old ancient trees,
Providing a home for the birds and the Bees.
The Town Centre is empty, the shops boarded up,
The Buskers and Beggars gone off with their cups,
To the Big shopping Malls, built out on the edge,
Where there’s much richer pickings for those on the beg
So here’s to the queues at the junctions and lights,
And frustrated drivers and more road rage fights,
The old and disabled can ne’er cross the road,
And that’s not to mention the Frog and the Toad.
They’re calling it ‘Netherton’ up on the gate,
To my mind it's just a cold Bedroom Estate,’
And here come the diggers, and here come the trucks,
They’re in it for profit so who gives a Fox!
They're in it for profit so who gives a Fox!