Brian Brannigan
First day of april 1963
Mother fell in the lap of luxury
Still tell to the day they handed her the keys
Second floor palace, the long balconies
They did a little dealing in the shade
Still of the cops and priests they were afraid
They hung their washing out there on parade
There was good dryin'
Nothing was spared, what they had they shared
They kept their worries to themselves
They knit the community of the long balconies
Days they were rough, no-one got upset
Our little homes immaculately kept
The accent was flat, 'n of that we were proud
But only as much as our poverty allowed
Woke sunday morning with a jobless anger
After saturday evening down the black and amber
Two scruffy young fellas belting out folk standards
They sang their heart out
No-one was scared, what we had we shared
We kept our troubles to ourselves
We lit the community of the long balconies
Whether by flaw or design I suspect
They let our kingdom fall into neglect
The promises broke the second that we voted
They said that they cared but they had another motive
So that the high-tech hadn't far to venture
They needed homes beside the city centre
We watched our neighbours slowly disappear
And we cried our eyes out
We became scared, what we had they shared
They had it all sewn up for themselves
They split the community of the long balconies
But we had a dream you see
In the long balconies
To never have to leave
To leave the long balconies
To leave the long balconies
