(Or what if Paul Simon had been writing in a British seaside town)

Hello seagull my old friend
You’re nesting on my roof again
You’re not a vision safely creeping
But hell that’s stopping me from sleeping
And their feet feel like they’re stomping throughout my skull
It’s never dull
It is the sound of seagulls

Those chicks up there are not alone
They have made this place their home
Perched up high upon the roof tiles
They really can see you for miles and miles
When those feathered heads they turn to get a perfect view
To pinpoint you
Beware the sound of seagulls

Now I’m scared to go outdoors
Just one swoop I will be floored
Those heavy wings are loudly beating
Strafing me and leaves me bleeding
Relaxing with a drink inside my summer chair
I wouldn’t dare
Provoke the sound of seagulls

The postman really doesn’t know
Begging Sainsburys don’t be slow
Word’s out they did procreate
On the polycarbonate
Don’t stay behind to point or view
You’ll feel it too
Through the wings of seagulls

And the chicks they soon will fledge
They’ll be falling off the edge
And soon they will all be soaring
And their parents won’t be calling
And the sun says
Take your summer chair
Breath in the air and sit outside
Go reclaim your pride
At last I hear the sound of silence

(Alternative lyrics by Louise Pull)