I often think that this is Morrissey, who is often criticized for living abroad, sarcastically asking us why on Earth he would come back to live in London, where taxi drivers never stop talking, under slate grey Victorian sky, where we would find a Morrissey who would only offer us despair.
I'm encouraged to think this by the last paragraph, where he mentions the irritating taxi drivers, the depressing weather, and STILL we say come back? He is incredulous. I don't think he's gushing about Camden here.
I often think that this is Morrissey, who is often criticized for living abroad, sarcastically asking us why on Earth he would come back to live in London, where taxi drivers never stop talking, under slate grey Victorian sky, where we would find a Morrissey who would only offer us despair.
I'm encouraged to think this by the last paragraph, where he mentions the irritating taxi drivers, the depressing weather, and STILL we say come back? He is incredulous. I don't think he's gushing about Camden here.