Heroin capital of the UK,

Eyeroll, yeah we know -

Don’t have to remind us,

They made a film about it

Or something.

“Pretty, shitty city,” it said.

We’ve got that street where the piss-ups get featured on the TV,

Lads gurning, off their faces on ecstasy,

The girls are fucking freezing in tight dresses showing off tattooed chests and nipple piercings -

They just want to get in on the interview, don’t matter they’re standing in the rain.

Twelve year olds in trackies

Chain-smoking outside the maccies,

Squaring up? Mate, you look about five,

Take a seat.

But then there’s the other side,

The most beautiful beaches that stretch for miles,

That thing where you make energy just from the tide.

Stand there, close your eyes,

Dig your hands into the sand, it’s nice

But bear it in mind

You’ve not got up the posh end yet -

Should probably look out for needles.

If you go further up you’ve got the cliffs,

By all the big houses, red brick.

Can keep walking, and walking and walking,

Breathing in salted air.

The sea can even whip at you from up here.

And you grin.

And it’s the best place you’ve ever been.

There’s a lot wrong with it,

When you walk back the other way

And forget that all this even exists but

Right now, this is the only place you need to be,

Take in everything you can see,

Be free.

*needs editing but wanted to get it in to keep up a streak*