Can’t get this place from under my skin

This skin that I’m still living in.

Its part of my story,

Part of my glory days

Unashamedly understated

Yet gloriously over-rated

This cotton mill town

Of smokestack spires

And terraced streets

Blackened by industry’s fires

Tattooed in coal black lines

Reminders of the times I had

Some good, some bad

Some in between

No matter how hard I scrub

I can’t seem to get clean

See, this town is a part of me

It fits, like a well worn jacket.

Can’t rely on the numbers racket

When I think of the friends

I’ve moved through,

Watched them fade

Then played goodbyes

To those shadows of my past

Wiping my eyes

Trying to believe at last

I’m free.

But can I ever be?

I’m wrapped up in its history

I’m a piece of its mystery

It will always be a part of me

And forever weigh me down

It’s buried within the heart of me

This place,

My home,

My town.