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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=449134" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Brogan's Lane</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=449134" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There's a crack in the city—down that sharp street <br> In couples, and armed, tramp rozzers on beat. <br>Like a joss, silhouetted across the pane, <br>A Chinese face watches down Brogan’s Lane, <br> Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane, <br>A reeling moon blinks over Brogan’s Lane. <br> <br>Flash Fred, when he dives on a red lot, sneaks thro’ <br>To moscow the swag with a Polaky Jew. <br>Tho’ rooked by old Shylock, he needn’t complain, <br>The melting pot bubbles in Brogan’s Lane, <br> Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane, <br>Rats pinch from their cobbers down Brogan’s Lane. <br> <br>And Jenny, fresh down from the country, goes gay <br>And drives to the races and laughs at the play; <br>Till one morn, lying out in the cold and the rain, <br>A body is perished in Brogan’s Lane, <br> Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane, <br>There’s only one turn to the long last lane. <br> <br>With opium dens, sly cribs, bones and rags, <br>’Tis the haunt of thieves, wastrels, poor women and vags. <br>They booze to bring joy, they sin to numb pain, <br>But there’ll come a stretch at the end of the lane, <br> Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane, <br>The river and morgue shadow Brogan’s Lane.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Louis+Esson">Louis Esson</a></strong></div>