Текст песни Proud City Father (Mark Ayling) с переводом

take me by the hand and lead me through the streets

of this old city that i thought i knew so well

but it’s forever changing, the faces, the accents

like the traffic lights directing rows and rows of

dirty buses, black taxis, people rushing home to their own important lives

not caring about anyone or realising

that they are part of something so much bigger

take me by the hand we’ll go down to the river

and see the energy of nature now tamed and used for

our amusement and commercial ventures

tread carefully through broken glass and dogsh*t

watch your back against the setting sun

the place comes alive with twinkling lights and limousines

expensive shoes, designer labels and matching accessories to die for

but we can’t follow the fashions of this city

it’s best left to those in the know

take me by the hand we’ll head out to the west

and see what the wealth of the city has created

rows and rows of lavish houses, landscaped gardens

an air of emptiness wrapped around the middle classes

there’s safety in these streets

no rumblings of violence felt across the ghettos

just a sandwichboard headline of reassurance that reads

«the property boom rides high!»

but down beneath the westway a young girl prepares to sleep

under a binbag

like this city

cold and alone

take me by the hand we’ll find our way east

past boarded-up shop windows on dark rainy streets

clashed cultures reacting to living together

in towerblocks with views over the city’s square mile

so far from their grasp

but in a one-bedroomed flat at the top of the world

a young boy sits plotting world domination

i’ll take you by the hand and lead you through the streets

of this old city that i love

through rotting corpses of enterprise where society once stood proud

now just a shell of it’s old self but still with a beauty unmatched

through tourist traps and royal flags

past homeless beggars and wealthy moneymen

through leafy parks and walls of steel

fly-postered streets once full of

burnt-out squats now recycled as

unaffordable living complete with ensuite

and all the echoed whispers of history

and it’s still calling

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