When it happened we walked through all the estates, from
Manchester right to, er, Newcastle. In Darlington, helped a large
man on his own chase off some kids who were chucking bricks and
stuff through his flat window. She had a way with people like that.
Thanked us and we moved on.
'Junior Choice' played one morning. The song was 'English
Scheme.' Mine. They'd changed it with a grand piano and turned
it into a love song. How they did it I don't know. DJs had
worsened since the rising. Elaborating on nothing in praise of
the track with words they could hardly pronounce, in telephone
I was mad, and laughed at the same time. The West German
government had brought over large yellow trains on Teeside docks.
In Edinburgh. I stayed on my own for a few days, wandering about
in the, er, pissing rain, before the Queen Mother hit town.
The North will rise again
The North will rise again
Too many people cower to criminals
The estates stick up like stacks
The North will rise again X4
The future death of my father
Tony was a business friend
And was an opportunist man
How he set out to corrupt and destroy
The business friend came round today
With teeth clenched, he grabbed my neck
I threw him to the ground
His blue shirt stained red
The north will rise again.
He said you are mistaken, friend
I kicked him out of the home
Too many people cower to criminals
When all it takes is hard slap
But out the window burned the roads
There were men with bees on sticks
The fall had made them sick
A man with butterflies on his face
His brother threw acid in his face
The streets of Soho did reverberate
With drunken Highland men
Revenge for Culloden dead
But it would turn out wrong
The North will rise again
So R. Totale dwells underground
Face a mess, covered in feathers
Orange-red with blue-black lines
That draped down to his chest
And light blue plant-heads
TV showed Sam Chippendale
No conception of what he'd made
The Arndale had been razed
Shop staff knocked off their ladders
Security guards hung from moving escalators
He built his base in Edinburgh
A hooded friar on a tractor
He took a bluey and he called Totale
Who said, "the North has rose again"
But it will turn out wrong
All of the English clergy
Though they have done wrong
I will go for foreign aid
But he Tony, laughed down the phone
Said "Totale go back to bed"
And you can stuff your aid!
And you can stuff your aid!