Nothing to Do - John Illsley, Simon Johnson, Paul Beavis

We moved from the land and empires were made.

Built with the power of the wheel and the late.

Chimney’s and factories grew from the earth.

We had pride in our work.

We were proud of our birth.

Now the factories are silent.

The gates locked and barred.

Machines gather dust where once they were heard.

The clock on the wall is taking its time.

It doesn’t know there’s a mountain to climb.

Used to drink on a Friday take the kids to the zoo.

Now money’s too tight, hands turning blue.

Got on my bike and formed an orderly queue.

Doint my best, but here’s nothing to do.

Windows are smashed, but nobody cares.

Roof is a sieve their doing deals on the stairs.

Trolleys from stores and burnt our cars.

Cracks in the pavement and junk in the yard.

Family’s split they’re broken in two.

I’m loosing the light, loosing the view.

Theirs a break in the rhythm a pain in my heart.

I thought I knew the best place to start.