Under the watchful eye of the peregrine
on Saturdays the bustling city sings
as shoppers from miles enjoy the surroundings
and the ale drinkers in pubs enjoy fine things
and toast to this fine city we’re living in.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine,
no rural backwater this - it’s thriving
with swing dancing and clubs to shag and jive in
and an atmosphere that’s warm, gentle and nice
and people who smile and ask you how’s your life.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine
the crowds roar as Delia’s Canaries win
and bathe the city in a green and yellow shim,
fill the Adam and Eve and the Woodcock Inn
and cram the teeming Murderer’s to the brim.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine,
steady as she soars and graceful as her wing,
among the boughs on Wensum’s banks, blackbirds sing
and willows weep tears of joy to grace this fine
place, where old, cobbled roads twist up timber hills.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine,
streets lined with sagging beams that lean over lanes
adorned with flint walls and churches that remain
to have seen it all; England’s rise, through plagues,
where once sat kings, the castle reigns over still
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine,
perched upon the towering cathedral spire
around which the river’s gentle banks inspire
tales from within the fantasies of this fine
place - a UNESCO world city of literature.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine,
not a rich place, this, but filled with a rare wealth
that can’t be found in vaulted banks. There’s a soul
to this fine city - an independent scene -
Birdcage, Les Garrigues, Cafe Writers, Magic Es.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine,
where guys and girls on skates roll together,
and prosecco is sipped on boats on the Broads
and it’s hard to complain about the weather
in this big sky place, this delightful dry place.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine,
on those dazzling days down by the UEA
the lake sparkles like silver disco balls
and the world leading science down the road,
the reach of which cannot be overstated.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine
my heart swells when I gaze on the market
and tears of pride well in my lucky blue eyes
to be one of the most fortunate of guys
to dwell in this city finer than divine.
Under the watchful eye of the peregrine
times change, people too, and if I had to go
a piece would tear from the heart which tells me so
and call me back from time to time
to this beloved place,
a city of a thousand dreams
that will never be replaced.
