MATT HILL

Lyrics

Stone and bone

I'm made from flagstone, grindstone, knucklebone, thighbone, capstone, kerbstone, tailbone, whalebone, cobblestone, milestone, backbone, jawbone, crossbones, headstone, wishbone, tombstone
I'm built from stone and bone

Theres no monuments on these bone dry fields to commemorate those buried here
Just wretched poor on wretched poor a hundred thousand souls
The prostitute, the destitute those cast aside by institute
From the borough slum to the boiler rooms they've all been shovelled here

In the name of progress the city cries you may dance upon my stones tonight
But feed my slots with coins that shine you're all just bones to me
And I'm built from stone and bone.

Here comes London's forgotten dead crawling from the flower beds
Withered and sucked to a dusk dry husk by the roots of ancient trees
Then Landed gentry in wigs and gowns they run but then they're hunted down
And hung upon their apron strings all laid compass square

Pilgrim Fathers fill their plates on tables made from fractured slates
As they feast upon the greying graves of a hundred thousand souls
Then the earth below them starts to shake as the spectral form of William Blake
Storms into the Stock Exchange and fire fills the sky