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So This is the Idiot Country.

So this is the idiot country. In the seventies some goon took the city and put it in the fields and on the sea: far enough away to be everything and nothing. But people love here, they smile, they drink and fight here. Suffolk boys with a London accent or is that Essex boys with an estuary accent? Someone will explain it to you one day. It's wishing for 3 bells, it's falling in love as the moon rises, it's the tramp on the corner with plastic toys and turpentine, it's the peeping tom among the twigs and the leaves, it's being punched in the face for the first time, it's that bottle of Paddy whiskey you swig at, it's snoozing against windows on your way home, it's the Sunday morning hangover, it's an autumn breeze; this is the idiot country: it's our home.

The Idiot Country Boy