From the recording End of the Walls

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End of the Walls (Explicit)

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An aggressive, Geordie spoken word piece about growing up in Wallsend, alongside intense and technical guitar and cello. The working-class message delivered in a more sophisticated manner.


One of the only places I know where you're alright to throw a line out on the table as long as you give the Bartender one
But obviously they've got to recognise your face like they're not bloody daft
I mean howay
In these pubs you'll hear the absolute deepest darkest dirtiest of insults getting passed back and forth between Mates like a game of fucking dead grandma ping pong
But its all cush because no ones arsed due to the fact their Skin as is thick as they are
Mind you it's not all fun and games
Link eyes with the wrong person for less than half a second and that obviously Means you think they're a puff and you want to fight them
Even thinking about looking at them might just get you Done in so you're best off just keeping your eyes to yourself
And don't get me wrong it's always been like this
Starts in school you'll get into a scrap over who gets the end of a two pound joint bought from the local smack head before the morning bell even fucking rings
Then after school we'd all Congregate at the corner shop getting single fifty pence tabs on tick because you had to use your dinner money to pay off your last tick
Although it wasn't always that easy
Before we could all confidently get served at thirteen you had to wait for a local hero To go in the shop for you
But it got to the point where these modern day saints would just wait outside the shop Hoping a youth would wander by needing their services simply so they could get a free tab out of it
Quite the mutually beneficial agreement really until of course you get that dick head who just takes your full ten Deck and fucks off
But I mean live by the sword and all that
You'd then get home your mam's still at work dad's none existent you go out to meet the boys to go thirds on a fiver Bag or a quarter litre
Probably have to skip the metro to get there unless you needed roach obviously in which case a ticket is totally necessary
You'd then spend the whole night in a field or a back alley somewhere getting absolutely full of whatever
Then when the pubs close you'd have a load of fully grown blokes doing the exact same it's like we were training for That lockdown our whole lives man
But now we're grown ups and if anything it's just gotten worse
We're all addicted to coke and we think we're lardy Fucking dar because we drink in a Wetherspoons called the ritz
So never mind Hadrians Wall or Segedunum
Never mind how lucrative the coal mining and ship building was
We live in a town ran by takeaways pubs charity shops and Jonny Decker
We went from Romans to radgeys and its absolutely fucking class