Double Bay, takes two to pay,
for a latte with a fern in its Crema.
When the weather is fair, one can only despair,
From the number of trophies in their god-damn activewear.
Outside of the cross, no lock-outs or bikies with tats,
Streets become filled, with snobby bitches and brats.
Entitled they spree, Prada, Hermes and Gucci,
Useless twits should be fed to some sharks in the sea.
Double Bay, two cards to pay,
for the first was maxed-out last adventure.