Darlo is my darling
Very few can top this town
(The northern Monte Carlo)
We’re off to burnish up our crown
In jubilo, in darlo
At night, the residents eat cake
Bask in an orange glow
And happiness is wide awake
In darlo jubilo
The colours here are bright and warm
(As rich as Frieda Kahlo)
We are the children of a storm
In jubilo, in darlo
At dusk, we sing like nightingales
And rise at dawn like dough
And no-one’s courage ever fails
In darlo jubilo
You’ll hunt in vain to find the flaws
(Though you had Philip Marlowe*) * or, Inspector Barlow
But you may join in our applause
In jubilo, in darlo
We speak like Homer, rhyme like Keats
Or hear the wild grass grow
And please ignore the reeking streets
In darlo jubilo
Click here for an Independent article
Click here for a Northern Echo article
