Información de la canción En esta página puedes encontrar la letra de la canción The Junkyard, artista - Skitz
Fecha de emisión: 27.02.2020
Restricciones de edad: 18+
Idioma de la canción: inglés
The Junkyard |
«…What trust can we any longer place in government policies that have |
Rigorously and indeed brutally held down wages, yet at the same time |
Increased prices and in the process presented us with the biggest |
Unemployment problem in postwar years…» |
These streets are filthy from the sweat and tears |
We wear our fingers to the bone in search of gold |
We must protect the children 'cos they fear from the night, whatever’s not right |
We bear witness- the Junkyard means business |
Shadows in the dark, muggers on the stairs |
Junkyard warfare some peoples worst nightmare |
My sides breed alkies looking 10p |
And cash converters were invented for junkies |
My neighbors family are like lost sheep and livin here ain’t very cheap |
Thieves from the council stole their money from the streets |
I ain’t had runnin water for weeks |
Kids in my flats hardly know how to speak |
Before they’re bunnin down weed and getting STD’s |
And then they have kids, before their time to live |
Which is some hard shit, when kids bringin up kids |
Times are hard in the junkyard, kids fuck around in the dirt |
And see white as the only way to work |
They hold the square cos there’s piss on the stairs |
Little man licks the pipe and blows the smoke high in the air |
He calls it welfare’s prayer, smoking on the shit to feel godly |
Spittin with them cats upstairs |
Cos its dirty down here, God, you get yr robes pealed of yr back |
Crucified in a block of flats |
Junkyard style, from the bricks to the shacks |
And the pigs chase the cats while the cats feed their habits |
Sometimes I get nostalgic and I hold my old corner |
Where we used to rock that bad magic |
I get toxic then reflect on the world |
And Watch cars drive by putting swine before pearls |
Guzzling on L just to keep my head straight |
In the Junkyard AKA Highbury Estate |
You gotta fight to survive blood |
Lash your take to make your food supply right blood |
Hold your own cos the kids are all thugs |
Livin on luck when you ain’t got nothing and its all about the buck |
Junkyard- burning bins and dumped cars |
Police on patrol, and streetcorner stars |
Cats getting prang, Yards getting blam |
Shots getting licked so live how you can |
Kids are eating icepoles, throwing stones at busses |
Accosting grannies getting chased and now they’ve grown up |
Screwing on the corner with a knife in his pocket |
Jack you, stab you, kill you, your times up |
My bloods dirty from the poison that the junkyard breathes |
Everything we touch just dies of disease |
But still I live here, shine an example to the youngers |
To think about the way I’m gonna deal with my hunger |
Broke for 3 days, late giro again |
New Deal, low pay, big ball and chain |
Tucked into my sock and I don’t wanna be bruk |
I’ve got the symptoms of the junkyard fever a lot |
And I’m burning temptation as I look to the stars |
For a time when we can clean up the Junkyard |
Yeah its hard in the streets for whoever you are |
When you’rr livin in a place we call the Junkyard; |
I watched a film called life, through a broken window on the stairs |
It weren’t long before the boydem appeared, all flashlight shining in my face |
Same shit all the time- Junkyard, where our lives don’t change |
Little kids like orphans check me for a sponsor on the icepoles |
Nine year olds plottin for a title like Ollie Twist |
Snatch yr purse like a dodger disappear in the bricks |
The Junkyards a playground, crimes a safe pound, drink’s a way out |
The kids sit and blaze like there’s gonna be a drought |
Ain’t no love here, not for self or surroundings |
Just close encounters, and scoundrels of all kinds |
The money-mad'll rob you blind without foresight |
And speed off somewhere into the night |
To get high off this world, create their own space |
From the Junkyard AKA Highbury Estate |
You gotta fight to survive blood |
Lash your take to make your food supply right blood |
Hold your own cos the kids are all fucked |
Livin on luck when you ain’t got nothing and its all about the buck |
Junkyard- burning bins and dumped cars |
Police on patrol, and streetcorner stars |
Cats getting prang, Yardies getting blam |
Shots getting licked so live how you can |
«Britains economic problem isn’t a problem of the decade or even a |
Generation; it arose far back in the 19th century, it’ll persist until the 21st» |