There is a place where the Leyland folk go
As well as the Chorley hordes and heroes
They go down in winter to hurl some snow
Must have thrown poop judging by the smell

There is a duck pond with more Asda trolleys
Than aquatic animals searching for food
It’s a beautiful place ruined by them
Used as a huge dog toilet

It’s Cuerden Valley fantasy
What a better place to be
Between the swaying bluebells
And the odd syringe or two

Many kids have been conceived
In the dark carparks dotted around
Even Miss Hook the geography teacher
Loved to make a spectacular sound

The M65 took a slice away
The also wanted it to be a bicycle highway
Imagine all the toddlers being knocked over
By the want to be Wiggins brigade

It’s Cuerden Valley fantasy
Why not come down to the woods with me
We can pollute the romantic woods
With our Kleenex tissues and Durex condoms

With an air rifle they shoot the birds
The horny rabbits are running scared
It’s also used for a quicker walk home
If you’ve been flirting in the Ley Inn

The kids are having temper tantrums
Throwing dummies and toy bunnies
But the cunt of the parent didn’t pick it up
Now the grass areas are like a Mothercare sale

It’s Cuerden Valley fantasy
Why not bike it there with me
We will break our fucking necks
Whizzing down Sheep Hill Brow

It’s a place to escape the rat race
At the same time you see our grubby footprints
Plastic and toxic burger food wrappers
And coca cola bottles everywhere

Once and so often they have a spring clean
Until some primitive family has a picnic
Almost burning the whole place down
Thankfully the rangers acted really quick

It’s Cuerden Valley fantasy
Bring your stereo and dance with me
We will sway in the cold moonlight
Kissing bats and midges all fucking night

River Lostock tried to flood Town Brow
What will the walkers do now?
It should be a protected nature reserve
Until the trolls come down

They see it as public so declare it theirs
Spreading their rubbish everywhere
Too proud to take their shit back home
A litter trail underlines where they roamed

It’s Cuerden Valley fantasy
Everyone there is a bastard to me
How many impatient girls are now mums
They should have stuck to picking plums

It’s Cuerden Valley fantasy
Once upon a time it was there for me
Pretending to be someone like Robin Hood
Obviously that did me the world of the good

It’s Cuerden Valley fantasy
How did it become poetry
How could it survive in this mind
After 30 fucking years.

Poem was written for an ebook I have saved in my digital draw.