Heron's nest

We're in some godforsaken Swabian village
That's reached by several train trips and a bus.
Beyond the stain of Stuttgart's urban spillage;
Where vineyards thin and forests brood: that's us.

And what I like is how the jaded schoolkids
Who live among these big-bad-wolf black woods
Flounce off the bus, pan-European cool kids,
With cracking gum, flicked hair, designer goods.

The town you catch that bus from has whole lanes full
Of fairy-story carpenters and smiths,
And one McDonald's. Hell, why pump your veins full
With dumplings and those marzipanny myths?