Lea Valley, Sunday afternoon. All crew are present and correct.
Sounds of the funky house. No trainers, no hoods, but plenty of hats.
Blades on our feet, but no trouble. The MC sees to that:
“Don’t sit on the barrier
Don’t throw the ice
This is a Change Of Direction situation
Please stop skating and go…
Hold tight the stumbling Dad crew.
Holding tight to the rail.
You might see me do a funky dance,
in a funky dance.
But then I’d probably fall over.
One time there was 1000 people on the ice, brocking out to jungle.
The side of London that the ‘ardkore continuum tourists never see.
Let’s go back in the roads
I’m going back in the cold.