Some say its sh*tty in the dirty city but thomo keeps it clean.
With his spangly shoes and 'special' views he's the captain of the team.
Chillin in Soho for some's a no-no, but thomo thinks its sweet.
Chucks on his coat, grabs his pay slip, then skates off down the street.
Grabbing breaky at Spitafields, the magpie heads back into town,
Evenings beers remind of home, when sipping Newky brown.
Kensington clubbing or Nightime skates, his fingers' on the button,
But all that snaff, all the time, the guys a sacking glutton.
But come tomorrow, smiles all round, he's meeting with his mates,
Tours of town and chilling round, even the weathers looking great.
Shoot some pics and film some tricks, then head out and get leathered.
Sit about chatting skating and how i pulled that method.
A few days later all is quiet, me and Dan have now left town.
But still the ripples circulate, still Thomo wears his crown.
courtesy of (paul tipping/tap dogs/cock chops/P.TIPPY)
for more of his poems and art check out paultippingphotography.co.uk
