Sign of Life by the Landless Landlord
That this one struck me as worth including could seem surprising at first. Gloomy little empty thing good for nothing but a gripe about where they're all going. Not just the sign, but even all trace of the support gone, just a few letters left up top.
But it's the new occupant that caught my gaze. I suspected the place was squatted when I first came on it - hoped at least it served that function, late night parties recalling lock-ins among the wildest, the deserted island space perfect for the beefiest sound system, imagined the bricks puffing mortar to bass rhythms at night. But in fact, passing late, it seems to have gone unnoticed by those in need of free accommodation,
Which all leaves the little creature at the breeze-blocked door doing ghostly office as a sign. What that could be of, what kind of Duke this is of what Cambridge I couldn't say, but it seemed to need recording before it peeled, a new occupant was found or the place demolished.
Duke of Cambridge, Cambridge Crescent.