I was drunk in youth's womb,
Hungover for years in this tomb.
I hate the yellow veins in your green and pink face,
I hate the hedgerows in your countrified lanes.

Bright lights,
Where the roads are paved with shite.

A huge slag heap from an open cast mind,
Keep walking away can't leave it behind.

56 by 3 or more or less,
Like a family you're built to oppress.
EH prefix worse than a brand,
You steal form me then you cut off my hands.

A sick parasite,
On the banks of the river shite.

A hive where the reek of lies is auld indeed,
Where bullshit's collected by rotting worker fleas.
I know i can never ever trust this place,
I see it in the mirror and my mother's face.
Do i thank you for all?
Or is a broken heart congenital?