A seaside town where sunshine thrives,
I found a door which changed my life.
The door was old and painted green
I ventured forth and was impelled
To walk right through and there beheld
A brand-new world of different sorts
‘Twas nothing like what I’d been taught
Same Cornish streets, and tourist stalls,
But something different overall.
In this new world rules were reversed
Bad was good, it was perverse.
I wandered round and came upon
A child aged ten whose name was Jon
And as with him I did converse
I realised that this place was cursed.
To just get by and to survive.
For folk in St Ives, behind the door,
Were well different from before.
Here the focus was not on good
But how to rule the neighbourhood
Grabbing stuff without a thought
Of what it meant or who it hurt.
The more you took, the more your dough
The more your status it did grow.
Do-gooders and the friendly folk
Were despised, just one huge joke.
Being bad was seen as success,
Being good just meant distress.
I stayed in that place for seven hours
A hell on earth, all was soured.
Just people taking what they could
And subjugating all that’s good.
What would you like to become?
The boss of all, the number one,
Was his reply, to take and have everything
Without a care what hardships bring
Returning through that old green door