Two-Wheel Town

Two Wheel Town words and music David Philip Ireland

There’s a jackdaw sitting proud on the railing near the chapel

Casting round for sinner men to blame

One eye on the skyline, one eye on the scatterings

Iridescent blue-black feathers gleaming in the rain

In this two-wheel town

There used to be a print shop with headlines on the news

Back in the day when jobs were for life

Black and white and read all over

Wrapped around the fish and chips now,

To take home to the trouble and strife

In this two-wheel town

This town was never built for speed

A proud industrial chasm in a grass green bowl

Then the Danesman came

And tamed the wild uneven ways

Turned this one horse town without a horse

Into a two-wheel town

There’s a rumour that young William was a teacher at the school

For eight long years, he shaped the local minds

And when labours' loss was history’s gain

From high on the escarpment his words flowed like the Ewelme

Through the distant two-wheel town

When I was young, the town had slipped into decline

The Donkey ceased to run there any more

A place of sad neglect

And ruined stone and twisted iron

And Lardy cakes and curdled cream

Fed the two-wheel town

There’s a jackdaw sitting proud on the arm of a masked man

Bags full of something for the plate

One eye on the clock, but nothing’s really mattering

There’s nowhere to go, no buses running late

No hand to hold, or soul to touch

There’s nothing really moving

Anymore

Everything has slowed beyond belief

Life behind the lock and key

Now dead to me

Dead

And gone

From dusk ’til dawn

In this two-wheel town