We sold out of these but we've now had a limited repress of the beautiful digipack CD with 16 page lyric booklet. Most of them are going round the English motorway system in Gav's merch box but we've keep a handful back at My Little Owl HQ for our lovely Bandcamp customers.
Includes unlimited streaming of Echo Bridge
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 5 days
edition of 600
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lyrics
As young professionals pour out of new coffee shops and bars
Talking loudly on their hands-free mobile phones
The estate agent looks out and says “Living here’s an investment”
But all we really want, is a home. He says “These flat whites are to die for! I assume you want to buy for the proximity to local artisans? And I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours, there’s a restaurant coming that just sells houmous, Now, let’s then guys let’s get down to brass tacks…”
Maria’s got a job earning minimum wage pay
Wearing a headset in a call centre, at least eight hours a day
I took a job driving a bus, it pays the bills but both of us
Have wandered off the map and lost our way
We’re existing in a fourth floor high rise overlooking different lives
On our balcony, t-shirts hang on the line
Outside the shattered glass front door, discarded beds old ironing boards
Like an installation that could win the Turner Prize
Nearly half our income goes to just paying the rent
To a hand we’ve never shaken, to a man we’ve never met
To save for a deposit here, it’s gonna take at least ten years
When the Waitrose van drives round the bend, you know the end is near
From our window without curtains, Maria’s flirting with the city
To the sound of next door’s screaming teenage daughters
She says “It’ll never knock me down, no matter how hard it hits me”
As she stares down at a high street lined with Porsches
‘Cos you might think it’s laudable to build more unaffordable flats
And turn us into five-per-cent Home Starters
But by storing wealth and profit and by keeping our hands off it
There’s no room left for the dreamers and the artists
So though we stand there defiant, wrecking balls they bust and boom
A sea of hard hats and hi-vis below
This utopian dream was just a big city scheme, designed in a boardroom
But all we ever wanted, was a place to call our home
‘Cos we’re struggling to cope in, this architects’ utopia
A designer’s dream of ‘good community’
It’s turned inwards upon itself, crumbling like MDF shelves
If you lived here you wouldn’t see the poetry
From the outside looking in, flat screen TV’s sell that dream
Holidays, water features and home cooking
And it’s all about “location” so long as you’ve got the means
The rest of us will never get a look-in
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