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WHEN YOU’RE GREETED AT THE STATION BY THE INDUSTRIAL DECAY, SEE TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF INNOVATION, AS IT SLOWLY DIES AWAY. BUT THEN THE STREETS AREN’T THAT MUCH BETTER; THE SHOPS CAN HARDLY STAY AFLOAT, ‘CUS MY HOMETOWN’S A FUCKING SHITHOLE, BORN FROM RUGBY LEAGUE AND SOAP. AND YOU WONDER WHY MY TOWN BREEDS CYNICISM; I AM A CYNIC IN THIS TOWN; THERE’S JUST NO ARGUMENT FOR COMING-UP, WHEN THE EVIDENCE ALL SAYS WE’RE GOING DOWN. PLEASE TELL ME, IS THERE A WAY OUT? THE GOLDEN GATES ARE JUST AN EYESORE AND THE SKITTLES ARE A JOKE. MR SMITH’S WAS ONCE A LANDMARK, ‘TIL IT ALL WENT UP IN SMOKE. IT’S OLIVER CROMWELL THIS AND CROMWELL THAT, ALL SEIZING ON HIS NAME; HE MIGHT HAVE STAYED ONE NIGHT NEAR HOWLEY QUAY, BUT HE NEVER CAME BACK AGAIN. AND YOU WONDER WHY MY TOWN BREEDS CYNICISM; I AM A CYNIC IN THIS TOWN; THERE’S JUST NO ARGUMENT FOR COMING-UP, WHEN THE EVIDENCE ALL SAYS WE’RE GOING DOWN. PLEASE TELL ME, IS THERE A WAY OUT, ‘CUS I’VE NO REASON TO BE OPTIMISTIC, NOT WHEN I’M PRESENTED WITH THE FACTS. I’LL READ THE PAPER EVERY MORNING – SEE THE KNIFE CRIME, RAPE AND ARSON ATTACKS. PLEASE TELL ME, IS THERE A WAY OUT? NOW IF ONLY THINGS WERE DIFFERENT, WE COULD PUT THIS ONE TO BED; THE COUNCIL PROMISED TO BUILD BRIDGES THEN DUG UP THE ROADS INSTEAD. SEEMS THE TIDE JUST ISN’T TURNING, THINGS AREN’T GETTING OFF THE GROUND, ANOTHER CAR PARK NEAR COMPLETION, WHILE ALL THE PUBS ARE CLOSING DOWN. I’M SICK OF LIVING IN THIS TOWN AND YOU WONDER WHY MY TOWN BREEDS CYNICISM; I AM A CYNIC IN THIS TOWN; THERE’S JUST NO ARGUMENT FOR COMING-UP, WHEN THE EVIDENCE ALL SAYS WE’RE GOING DOWN. PLEASE TELL ME, ‘CUS I’VE NO REASON TO BE OPTIMISTIC, NOT WHEN I’M PRESENTED WITH THE FACTS. I’LL READ THE PAPER EVERY MORNING – SEE THE KNIFE CRIME, RAPE AND ARSON ATTACKS. PLEASE TELL ME, IS THERE A WAY OUT?
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