Southport is

           a grumpy old man:
tiny, heavy, and obstinate;
he used to have a laughing friend
but has grown tired of him.

He dreams of a metallic pier
that will proudly tower over
over what? The water is gone,
and gone, too, is the sand golden.

This grumpy ol' man loves to destroy
with hopes of someday rebuilding
that which should've never been torn.

Dream of projects and past glories,
of woulds, if onlys, and has beens,
and miss cleaning your own soil'd streets.