Letras
As I walk these streets alone, through this borough I call home
Upon the baron fields of Highbury 'neath the stadiums of stone
Through the turnstiles at The Angel, see the homeless on the green
From The Cally to The Cross, and every shithole in between
Pass the church, the mosque, a crack den, and the offie on the corner
See the brasses from the brothel that pretends to be a sauna
Watch the bedlam in the bookies, see the winners and the losers
Seeking solace from their sorrows in the local battle cruisers
Through the madness in the market, weathered faces turn to greet ya
"Hello guvnor, how's your mother?"
"You alright son, be lucky, geeza"
Double pie and mash and liquor, a Cuppa Rosie Lee up chap
Or watch retired gangsters bicker, everyday in Arthur's cafe
The little fuckers causing trouble, for the cozzers make you smile
You meet ya muckers for a couple, forget your troubles for a while
From The Thornhill to The Hemmy, all the faces are the same
'Cause the manor might be changing, but the people still remain
North London forever
Whatever the weather
These streets are our own
And my heart will leave you never
My blood will forever
Run through the stone
As I walk these streets alone, through a kingdom made of Chrome
I see them ripping up the cobbles, and tearing down our childhood homes
I see the architecture changing, watch the history disappear
And the skyline rearranging into towers of veneer
But I see the remnants of the London that they thought they could erase
Every time I hear the old school talk about the good old days
Or every time I watch the football and have a ruby with the lads
See an hoister selling clobber or a dealer shooting bags
It's in the single mothers juggling a baby and a job
In every single brother struggling that wound up in the dock
It's in the roots and the foundations still clinging to the land
It's in the bricks that built the Morland and Popham that still stand
It's in my family and my friends, in every gram and every Benz