A name on the radio.
A rumour in the air.
Footsteps down through Soho.
Night breeze through roughened hair.
A public menace in the eyes of the law;
A danger, a threat to the ‘ideals’.
A campaigner in the eyes of the poor;
A solution to a problem, to steal.
What she took doesn't matter,
She needs it more than they do.
It's her against them, but only the latter
Has a fighting chance of getting through.
They were so cruel to one so kind,
They led her to this.
One corrupt nation under one corrupt mind,
Raised on varsity and unawareness bliss.
Purloiner, she's branded,
Thief, wretch, scum.
But they don't understand that
Their time, too, will come.
“Fill them in, the breaks and the flaws.”
They say as they iron out her deeds.
But without the cracks in the pavements and the walls,
The city cannot breathe.