Skint & Demoralised - Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

a centipede of lorries, static in the sun.
a lifetime for journeys, long since begun.
where clinging to a chassis
or slipping through a door,
says as much for safety
as the clothing on the floor.

attention fixed on the National Guard:
parked on every roundabout.
aviators, guns, and coffee
menace in their pout.
my destination: approximate,
forbidden and maligned.
playing host to stories
which you'd never hope to find.
a no man's land, an eyesore
and a prison.
debris on the road
of military collisions.

Megabus. Underground. Eurostar. foot.
for some, the door's revolving.
for others, slammed shut.
the railway line. London Calling.
the entrance, and then the strip.
at worst, a step from genocide.
at best, humanity's blip.

it's like
Auschwitz has a waiting room, or
human beings are being graded,
and these didn't make the cut.
the charities are banned.
the police attack at dawn.
simple pleas for sympathy
meet violence or scorn.
barbed-wire fences bought by taxpayers in Britain.
a message in a bottle
that doesn't need to be written.

i'm offered fresh Afghan naan.
i watch people build a gym.
their chances of survival,
sickeningly slim.
at the time, it's not as mortifying
as emotionally flatting.
it's 2016:
how the fuck can this be happening?

lay down, lay down beside me
and hold my hand real tight.
lay down, lay down beside me
and tell me it'll be alright.
lay down, lay down beside me
and hold my hand real tight.
lay down, lay down beside me
and tell me it'll be alright.

lay down, lay down beside me
and hold my hand real tight.
lay down, lay down beside me
and tell me it'll be alright.

lay down, lay down beside me
and hold my hand real tight.
lay down, lay down beside me
and tell me it'll be alright.

Written by:
David Gledhill, Matthew Abbott

Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management

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