In Leadenhall Street it was raining
one dismal Thursday morning,
the rain fell faster than the pound
before some gloomy fiscal warning.
The lady's, they were quenching
as they shimmied 'neath their brolleys,
I couldn't spot the difference 'tween
the Claire's and the Holly's.
Some overworked light bulbs
were glowing like a haven,
on a number fifteen in disguise,
the morning's soul they were saving.
The walls of all the buildings
were closing in around me.
Giving reference to Dickens
St Mary Axe? go on; astound me.
Capability Red aprox 1980
