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Thorns dress the concrete, sprinklers haunt gutted memories The punished drift in codes of silence fettered to a walled garden The clergy offers its warm embrace and the mounting weight of all your guilt Smiling faces shake the pot Drain yourself for their forgiveness Hollow landlords suffocate starve and ruin in the name of value Emaciated on the 14th floor building for a brighter future Spoon, debt and lifeless sheets Forming queues in lines to eat what is left of your own dignity Teeth dragged across the brick of survival But I seek no pity between the cracks, beneath the fable and the cold of day I am here and always will be born to laboured hands For every bone broken in Whitehall and skull cracked at Orgreave Carry the hope and wield the anguish in a century of performance and the trick of the ideal Rinse the sediment of all they took And from the rubble of their farce carve out a brand new way Seize horizons of untold scale Forge new mountains on their remains and climb to touch the sky again One day this will all be ours in the name of all who fell before Roses rising from a slag heap to dig out the scabs, even the score