North/South Division

I wish I was born a Northerner,
Bursting out of the womb wearing a cloth cap.
Firmly grasping a pint o' bitter, roll-up in my mouth.

I wish I was born a Northerner,
Down't pit wit' pick axe in my hand,
Work thirty hour days and then collapse exhausted.

I wish I was born a Northerner,
I'd wear my heart on my sleeve,
I'd of been close to the theatre of dreams.
Red and black scarf round my neck.
Hollering as I drew the sonic rapier from its sheath.

I wish I was born a Northerner,
I'd have socialised with the elite,
Drinking from the lyrical fountain of Ryder, Morrissey, Lawrence and Hughes.

I wish I was born a Northerner,
Cos the South is full o' clowns,
Scenesters, shisters, shallow bastards
Cunts that'd sell you out for half an ounce.