- published: 16 Sep 2015
- views: 2495
Coordinates: 51°29′19″N 0°01′07″W / 51.488661°N 0.018589°W / 51.488661; -0.018589
The Isle of Dogs is a former island in the East End of London that is bounded on three sides (east, south and west) by one of the largest meanders in the River Thames. It is almost bounded to the north by the South Dock (part of the old West India Docks.) This dock is separated from an inlet of the River Thames by some forty metres of infilled land. Except for this one small separation, access to the Isle of Dogs always necessitates crossing water by bridge or tunnel.
The name Isle of Dogs is first recorded in 1588 (see hereafter), but had been in use for some years before this. Brewer's 1898 Dictionary of Phrase and Fable attributes the name: "So called from being the receptacle of the greyhounds of Edward III. Some say it is a corruption of the Isle of Ducks, and that it is so called in ancient records from the number of wild fowl inhabiting the marshes." Other sources discount this, believing these stories to all derive from the antiquarian John Strype, and believe it might come from one of the following:
How many time do I have to lie
Before you believe me?
And how many time do you have to beat me
Before I learn how to play?
And where are the authorities
When you need somebody blown away
And how many arrows do I have to suffer
Before I'm a martyr?
Is it true that you have to do good
Before people will
Pay for a look at your bones?
You've got to be kidding me
Does this mean that I'll never be a saint?
With my pockets full of platitudes
And my dusty crown of thorns
Yeah it's used but barely worn
And I have crawled broke and desperate
Through the dumpsters of the Lord
And once I was an ugly sea
I wrestled in my sleep
And hurled foul threats and curses
At the sky
I pounded on the stubborn shore
Cause it can never be a symphony
If nobody cries
And how many bodies and how many boxes
Before it's all over?
And how many time do I have to cry
Before they wash me away?
Head I do: It's a comedy
Tails I don't: And I see another day
With my pockets full of platitudes
And my dusty crown of thorns
Yeah it's used but barely worn
And I have crawled broke and desperate
Through the dumpsters of the Lord
Once I was a rusted ship
Forsaken on the rocks
A tangle of green ligament and bone
I wrangled with the sullen sea
For it can never be a tragedy