We call it Urbex – that's urban exploration
A modern manifestation of the primeval need to discover
Not content to walk on rugs under which the dirt is swept
Instead we pull back the cover
Wielding handheld flash-lights with ragged trackie-dacks
And stacks of fat sacks of sandwiches in our backpacks
We go deep into the drains where the darkness gets colder
The water levels rising but our steps never falter
We smile to our sides at the paint on the wall
There's artful masterpieces next to meaningless scrawls
Sit and chill under the grill from which sickly light spills
Have our fill, what do we feel? I don't want to sit still
See the drain on the wall, small: we call it a feeder
It's not the main feature radius of half a meter
One of us climb in so we follow the leader
Let's see where this tiny tunnel can lead us
Both hands on the floor as we crawl under the city
Means no more for the torch; that's a pity
Surrounded underground hear the sound of cars from the surface
Of scum-skimmers driving round with no purpose
Hands start to hurt we've been crawling for ages
In dank, dirty air you can literally taste it, feeling suffocated
Face it, we won't make it, my heart's racing, there's no escaping, we'll have to turn back
But as our suffocated spirits start to slip
We see ahead in the distance the tip
Of a halo of light, showing us the way out
It's been a great trip but I wanna see the light of day now
At the end of the journey, wanna collapse but not yet
Brace against the concrete, push with all that we've got left
Climb out onto the gra**, scrambling on the morning dew
Emerging from the dirt in the middle of Northbourne Avenue