Remember those parades and the county fair Wearing Sunday best, so debonair Now only ghostly spectres brawl Echo the pavement's hard footfall Torn by wind through empty roads On the closed by-pass. abandoned loads No ferry boat, pub or general store There's nowhere open any more Our forgotten towns are calling The death of Albion they're mourning Cracks showing in the market halls Dying in the shadow of a shopping mall These are our forgotten towns Slowly raised but quickly drowned A legacy of industrial jails Steelworks rusting and concrete failed One more community implodes And you're nothing, a nobody Just another barcode