Geylang Lyrics Poem by Roy Lee

Sterile Singapore is a typical tourist trap
There's a concrete Merlion for a holiday snap
The city state is built as a giant shopping mall
But its a regiment that is often a bore.

So I'm renting a stay in a Geylang room
The bed's too soft and the floor needs a broom
But for some two fifty a week
This is a location that can't be beat.

The low rise architecture is a mixture
Old shophouses of coloured texture
And crumbling colonials with mouldy walls
And Taoist temples with bright red doors.

In the dim alleys are shadows of China girls
With tight short skirts and long black curls
Walking talking, plying their trade at night
Holding handbags, clutching hand-phones tight.

In many other parts are varied races
The trans sex Thais strut their paces
As dark skin Malays line along lorongs
And sari ladies go with men with sarongs.

For the evening or just for the hour
Joy, Cherry and Fragrance Sunflower
Also Ruby, Pearl, Star and Hotel 81
They're clean, comfortable and for fun

Adjacent to the hotels to attract attention
Where men gather to make selection
The red neons of the brothels are glowing
Cabs flash their lights, stopping and going.

Massage parlours provide finger pressure
Reflexology or optional relief pleasure
There's Karaoke lounges if thats the thing
For couples to sing songs as a social fling.

A golden shrine gleams in a shophouse,
Here the dead are not anonymous
With each tablet there lies an urn
Buddhist monks chant while incense burn.

There are also mosques built near the bars
But focused on the dark moving cars
And so not noticed by earthly eyes
Golden domes project into the skies.

Every where in sight its food paradise
Of eminent frog porridge or Hainan chicken rice
There's chili crab from a cafe of no name
Or Tofu, pratas and all sorts of cooked game.

Thick sick scent of durian floats outdoors
Stacked on shelves are the best D24's
Sweating heavily in the humid air
The fruit best eaten on a plastic chair.

The uncles fill tables in each eating house
Gather around TV's to chat and to browse
Watching English league with a jeer or cheer
Consuming melon seeds, tea or Tiger beer.

Cartons of cigarettes are for illicit sale
But for help to raise a floppy male
There are little blue pills at twenty a pop
On the pavement near a coffee shop.

The police have arrived in a darken van
Manage to arrest an illegal woman
They walk around to catch some vice
The street gamblers have hidden their dice.

So it becomes quiet in the gambling places
Excitement lost behind blank faces
The crowds, cards and bets have moved on
Won't be back until authorities have gone.

These Geyland streets are vibrant and raw
Smell sounds and sights as a spiritual call
And within this crowded chaotic desire
There are human deeds that inspire.


(Jan 2011)