New Model Army - BD7 Lyrics
Well the warm wind blew through the 60sBut it didn't blow much round hereDisappointment hidden in the jutting chin - 'we didn't want it all anyway'White paint daubed on a gritstone wall, the words of the prophets toldAnd we smiled to ourselves every time we walked byThe junction up on All Saints Road'It's a mean old scene'It doesn't do much for business or the paper-crack West-End dreamThe council took it down every now and againBut it was written up fresh and cleanStick your head above the parapetThey're going to arrange to put you downBad stories in the clubs at night, scrap metal in a rusting town'It's a mean old scene'BD7 and October evenings of endless rainThe backed-up storm drains bubbling and hissingAnd the cats all running for shelter, fur matted and drenchedTwenty-nine years on and nothing's changedThough in the end they took it down stone by stoneBut we're still laughing all the way to the edgeOf our beloved, unredeemable, desperate town'It's a mean old scene'
