England Is A...

Late night, London rise from the north east side
Back [?] by a high road
Seeing sight and street signs
Feeling low with dime lights
Hoping everything is gonna be alright
In time like these when the going is though
And it's getting shot down or they're shutting it
You might wonder if you can even begin to afford the dream on your shopping list
Plus, you're torn between twin identities
The aspirational poor whose grand-parents form the first slave of fugees from the diaspora, sworn to a life of labour
But then you're the settled son, setting sale of the warden club type, the party all night, the wealthy, the wide, the one of the intellects, the jet-set, the luxury drug den, the sex, the sound of the six figures safety net
How you gonna get by little black boy?

On the backstreet behind the [?]
[?] 2005, off the church
Wonder whether you'll be a big man before christ comes back
Off your own carbon flat
Finance strays and the way out
From the friend to audition out the dirt on the [?] stays
To the silver spoon pals, policism, perly gates
Devious to angels, but both are your enemies, why escape?
Why climb when it was the funk and the ground that gave you your shine in the first place
But then will it get you out of your parents, to a [?´] of your own, and a place you can call your home
Fighting the most hard to cut you a piece of land in the city tat shrink you while it expends
Got luck, 'cause you had your plans
Maybe so, or [?] we be, and will be working live slaves until we, set we, free