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I know this I've played in this dirt Powdered glass over everything Spray paint swastikas and cocks Coke cans bleached by sun Sir, why here? In the filthy, fly-tip bramble here There's Cannock bloom and river sun A mile just down the line First-class tuts More coffee, more apologies Pale-faced kids in rubber gloves Dressed as cops outside I tried to find your name You didn't make the news You're just the man whose blues Stopped his heart beneath our shoes From Letras Mania