They’ve really gone and spoiled our view

Those busy building blokes

And left instead an eyesore

The butt of many jokes.

 

Instead of trees, and mountains

Reaching up into the blue

They’ve left us with the builders’ sheds

And not one loo, but two.

 

Now Toulouse was the first name

Of an artist who was French,

But there’s not much art in two loos –

And besides, there could be stench.

 

It’s enough to make us rant and rave

And give way to a curse

But until we lose these two loos –

Could the outlook be much worse?