Bon Fire

I'm walking by the river when I hear them countdown to the fireworks. It's dark, cold, my breath fogs, my hands dig in my pockets, my collar is up. Ten, nine, eight... I don't even turn round, I just keep walking; I am the entertainer, and never the entertained. Hundreds of thousands of pounds going up in smoke, in flaming smoke, in sparkly clouds of affluence, whilst around me beggars ask to spare any change. I don't look round, I just keep walking. I am the entertainer, never the entertained.