There is a voice

In Piccadilly Circus

That gives a reason

For me to listen.

A sing-song tune

Unlike me and you,

Who only speak

To get to the end,

Riding the train

Of conversation

Without taking the time

To look out at the hills.

But anyways

This lady says

“It’s Canterb-ry,

Not Can-Ter-Bare-Y”

I say it wrong again.

She laughs at my accent

Which is by now an act,

Because I will keep

Mis-speaking the words

“Ed-And-Berg”

And “Ber-Oh”

To hear her sing

Until the morning

Takes a turn.