The half back-flip conception, State hospital birth The most threadbare, tall story the country has ever heard Brought home to breathe smoke in the arms of her mother The blunt kitchen knife Who just lays in a submissive position Beneath a national weight and the slow arc of a fist
Her heart beats like a breezeblock thrown down the stairs Her blood is thicker than concrete Forced to be brave, she was born into a grave
And in the limp three years of board schooling She’s accustomed to hearing that she could never run far A slipped disc in the spine of community A bloody curse word in a pedestrian verse Spirits in graveyards and fingers in car parks She cries on the high street just to be heard A screaming anchor for nothing in particular At the foot of the fuck of it Dragging her heels in the dirt
Her heart beats like a breezeblock thrown down the stairs Her blood is thicker than concrete Forced to be brave, she was born into a grave
The cheek of youth flashed red and turned gray Now she lies on the pavement, she is helped to her feet All thighs, hair and magpie handbags Saturday’s uniform for the 'fuck me' parade Brought home to keep warm, in the arms of a plumber Ruddy and balding Who just needs a spine to dig into A chest for the head, and a hand for the holding
Her heart beats like a breezeblock thrown down the stairs Her blood is thicker than concrete Forced to be brave, she was, she was
Her heart beats like a breezeblock thrown down the stairs Her blood is thicker than concrete Forced to be brave, she was A broken elevator anthem held between floors But if blood is thicker than concrete, all is not lost All is not lost, all is not lost