Down on the Manchester Ship Canal

(from the Spit Mancunia collection)

Where Heron's wade and tyres splayed and bob and old graffiti's fade

We crossed through gates and slowly made our way to where the waters bade

And felt the ghosts of men who made a kingdom from the cotton trade

And almost heard again the dins of hulls awash with fears allayed

Salfordian men and women paid

A million tonnes of fresh Canadian wools and grains and riches

All laid out

Oh how Mancunians played  

The coming of the age relayed yet here I stand on wharfs decayed

Weeds trampled where wild dogs have strayed

Pollution slicks, a litter glade where mills once stood

Where things got made

Now, lock and swing bridge unobeyed

All left to die and sink and fade

A silent water palace

Like an empty church where once they prayed

A massive man-made icon left unburied

Did a midnight raid rob life and limb from all displayed ?

I walked home with a heavy heart

On promenades of moss-strewn jade

A member of a race in shame

A race that didn't make the grade