Big City Life

There's a war within this city,
And there's chaos on the streets,
But it's not the work of soldiers,
It's the sound of foreign feet.

They're tearing up the tarmac,
They're littering on the ground,
For they've escaped their customs,
And the law to which they're bound.

They're pushing out the locals,
Some are buying second homes,
Whilst some emigrate, retired,
To write musty, boring tomes.

And the locals start to worry,
As their neighbours disappear,
With family friends all selling up,
For their own homes they fear.

But it's such a vicious cycle,
That these tourists come at all,
See, without them, business crumbles,
And the city starts to fall.

Unsure if they've been blessed or cursed,
A family sheds a tear,
They know their sights, their lives, their world,
Bring new feet every year.