It was a time when life was smothered by coal dust, when decades of decay had left just rust, in a forgotten northern town, there's no way up, directions down, any hope of getting out, completely crushed. But a passion seems to fall out of the sky, as a bird of prey is caught by your young eye, provides distraction from mundane, from those who treat you with disdain, spreading wings that help you sail up high and fly. Alas your joy and happiness is only fleeting, as there are those who'd rather give you a good beating, take away that piece of hope, to leave you on a greasy slope, but there's no point in calling out, wailing or bleating.
