Beams find their way through the boughs and the leaves,
Bringing gold light to this eternal place,
Sweet waters slake sheep and cloth halls are weaved,
High priests of high press put smiles on our face.
Yellow, white and blue steps we climb as they creak,
Abiding limestone worn by gleeful feet,
Mean valleys reach towards towering peaks,
Colours in’t sky match carnival in’t street.
Yet darkness enthrals and shame falls upon,
Those that come to take our culture away,
Shards of brick clatter in the dark arches,
As they harry the North, bringing decay.
Our city rises with brushstrokes not cares
Taking to wing from the banks of the Aire.
irrelevantreveries 