oh i hate my job with a passion
its not unheard of yeh its a fashion
coz the days are long and the nights are short
the only thing i'm sure of is i'm not sure
where i live doesnt help, it aint so pretty
a cancer in a developers city
knocking new up and ripping old down
i dont recognise much of what i used to call town
to go back in time would suit me just fine
it wasn't perfect then but i didnt seem to mind
when i was young and oh so bold
a great place to grow up, but not to go old
but i'm under no illusion regarding the confusion
not looking through narrow north england eyes
i'm not affraid to hide in the shade
i long for the day the ordinary seems less strange
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem