David Wood (07 April 1950 / London)
I am looking for someone else you see
But that person always eludes me.
For when I walk through the park
Or on a lonely street after dark
And I see beer cans thrown in the street
Or crisp packets, or cartons I do greet
That other people have cast aside,
Who discard their rubbish far and wide,
For it’s always for someone else to pick up
That beer can, wrapper or paper cup.
That someone else must be a busy guy
For no matter where I look or how hard I try
I cannot find them, it makes you want to cry.
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