A ballad
(21st-century North)
We drove by the ruined mills of Leek
In the dead time of the year
When the land had become like a faded song
We could no longer hear.
Down where the mouldering sandstone world
Of the Potteries blends with the weeds,
Where the warehouses echo with wandering winds
And the enmity gathers in beads,
Where the reservoirs seep to the pool of stars
And the sick are annulled in the night,
I was someone who failed like a light going out
In a dream on the edge of sight;
Where the powerful cling to their juggernaut arks
And the cities are sunken and bare,
I was someone who failed like a tumbling tower
On the edge of a kingdom of air.
We drove by the ruined mills of Leek
In the dead days of the year
When the land had become like a faded song
We could no longer hear.
