Underneath the Golden Arches

There’s a place that I know,

Where I sometimes go,

And sit awhile.

A place steeped in history,

Packed full of humanity,

Who rarely smile.

There’s kid from the school,

All acting the fool,

Wanting to be seen.

I saw a failed rock star,

Trying to sell his car,

What might have been?

The girls from the store,

Boys trying to score,

In the car park.

Refugees from the cinema,

A man dressed as Himmler,

All there after dark.

Old ladies with blue rinses,

Discussing the merits of chintzes,

As they sit down to eat.

Next to a nervous young boy,

And a girl looking coy,

Tapping her feet.

I see a whole rugby team,

And a kid looking mean,

As his mother pays.

There’s a man in a dress,

The kid’s making a mess,

As his mother explains.

The boys from the city,

Now things aren’t that pretty,

All turn up.

A man dining alone,

Girls on their mobile phones,

Who won’t shut up.

It’s a place that I love,

Fits me like a glove,

And I can supersize.

Spy on the human race,

Put a name to that face,

And eat burger and fries.

Burger and fries!

Supersize!