Singsong at the Hole in the heart.

Some nimble young thing snuck into the Westfield site in the centre of Bradford to record a little ditty.

Click on a thumbnail for a slideshow view

The video can be seen at
http://vimeo.com/7896951

Hope you can forgive the slight shakiness, song was only finished an hour or so before.

Seizing the moment and all that jazz.

'A Ballad for a Hole'

There’s a valley in my valley
A lake beside our beck
A wound of rubble and rusting stubble
Severed at the neck

From a hollowed, hallowed, borrowed, swallowed, head that doesn’t hear.
Instead slumps right, pretends to steer
The most vicious veneer

Pits and pity, a counselled city
Desperate for a putsch
Instead of entrapped nothingness
Something to see and touch

Send impotent omnipotents straight to an unmarked grave
With retail tales between their legs
Sales will not be saved
Sales will not be saved.

Divorce such holey matrimony, from empty chambers made
Firing thankless blanks, all files and ranks
Tied hands waiting to be frayed
Tied hands we prey are frayed
We’re not afraid

Our city has it’s multi-stories
 It needs to parks for cars
The limbo you’ve created with so many lowered bars
So many, many, many, lowered bars.

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