Anna died in the '80s in a one room flat on a dead end street
Another mark in the spaces where the bones and the spirit and the numbers meet
She was 3 years old when they built them 9 feet tall and an iron crown
Her brother's friend laid the foundations 'cause there's nothing like money keeps a poor boy down

Her daddy flew in 1940
Didn't remember his voice at all
But she recalled all kinds of trouble
If she played in the shadow of the Cutteslowe Walls

She talked about when the kid from 15 climbed to get a look at the other side
She heard the snap of his ankle and all he got to see was brick and sky
When he grew up he worked the night shift patching up the drunks from the music halls
He raised his kids in Plowman Tower built from the shadow of the Cutteslowe Walls

Hoist the clay upon their shoulder
The sweat of every working man
Raised a wall they can't get over
Not like blood or money can

They took them down in the '50s, brick by brick 'til the road was clear
All the kids who walked to school said: it's a whole lot quicker to get out of here
At 6 o'clock in the morning there's a song from the wheels of the passing cars
To every ghost treads the tarmac trying to make it on but they never get far

Where there's a line at the food bank
Where they're handing soup to the boys on the floor
Where sleeping bags are blocking doorways
You'll see the shadow of the Cutteslowe Walls

Where there's a line at the food bank
Where they're handing soup to the boys on the floor
Where sleeping bags are blocking doorways
You'll see the shadow of the Cutteslowe Walls
You'll see the shadow of the Cutteslowe Walls
Look for the shadow of the Cutteslowe Walls