EXCLUSIVE;An Epic poem on the knackering up of the Liverpool World Heritage Site as William McGonagall writes for Chronic Calls.

By Jove Missus!  Thanks to Mrs Hewitt's Ouija board we present a special edition of Professor Chucklebutty's Liverpool Chronic Calls, as we publish an ode to our developing city, the historical waterfront and the "Three Graces" as dictated from the other side by the late great  poet and tragedian, William Topaz McGonagall.

Luckily, my friend, Liverpool Poet and former member of The Scuffles, Reggie McCough, was on hand to tidy it up a bit, as McGonagall kept shouting "Are ya tellin' me am deed?"

http://www.mcgonagall-online.org.uk/ More on McGonagall

The Beautiful World Heritage Site On The Silvery Mersey

By William McGonagall

"Oh what a beautiful sight to behold"
many people would say, as their stories they told
Of the time they arrived in fair Liverpool
And their eyes lit up and their mouths did drool

The world came here, from all cultures and races,
Welcomed ashore by our fine three graces.
Though I feel that I must point out to you,
Before 1911 there were only two.

So without wishing to be at all pedantic
Not everyone who has crossed the Atlantic
Would have been met by the graceful three
When they ended their journey across the sea.

But I am sure the experience was not diminished
By the Liver Buildings not being finished
But all who do see them it has been said,
From Shanghai to Peru or Birkenhead

Do loudly cheer and we must surely agree
That it is a most beautiful sight to see
So highly in fact did the visitors rate us
That now it is granted World Heritage status

We take Pride in and love in equal measure
Our port, an architectural treasure
Best viewed from the river or the Albert dock
But what is this people cry out in shock?

For they are constructing something new
That has destroyed what was the finest view
Where once their image was reflected
Two great dark slabs are being erected

Misshapen blocks of cold shining black
A featureless mass stops you dead in your track
For what was once a site of celebration
Has suffered a heinous desecration

A rising monstrosity that now defaces
The land around our proud three graces
What kind of demented fools approved
With the risk of our status being removed?

The construction of these soulless towers
Like great black slugs amongst fragrant flowers
A great architectural travesty
Like two new Concourse Towers on sea

And who of sound mind would buy or rent
Next to the great Mersey Tunnel vent
For a healthy living must be in doubt
Where the carbon monoxide filters out.

How many new flats we should be told
Are now occupied or remain unsold
I offer a quick unscientific test
Hands-up if you live in One Park West

If you bought one of those, what price did ye pay?
And what may I ask is it valued at today
Had ye been at the demon drink when ye signed the cheque
For a home that looks like Wigan Tech?

The city skyline that now we see
Devoid of art and symmetry
A rising mess of concrete and glass
From the architectural dunces class

And where we yoyage on our famous ferry
They’ve created a heap that looks built by Jerry
Winner of the great carbuncle cup
Like a caravan with it’s downside up

Is there nay reached a point of saturation
For the city planners to have some hesitation

Or is it the fact each planning application

Is a gift to property speculation?


Wrapped in the term regeneration

Yet with the city’s falling population

It does nothing to address our real housing need

For the driving force for this is greed

And while the ink on one application’s still damp
The next one’s there for the rubber stamp
To keep adding more common sense can’t deny
We are building ghost towns in the sky

"That will be three shillings and sixpence please."

 

 

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye

Be nice to each other.