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High Vis - "0151" (Official Audio)

"0151" from "Blending" by High Vis: https://found.ee/Blending   / highvis     / daisrecords   Graham Sayle - "With the backdrop of a decade of austerity and neglect, ‘0151’ is a song about the power of collective identity. Written after my uncle passed away during the pandemic, the song was inspired by tales of life as a Ship Builder and the subsequent decline of the industry in the North of England; a song about the landscape and communities from my formative years and our current socio-economic situation.” Rob Moss - “Liverpool is a city familiar with the receipt bad news. Old grief within the North West breeds in its most mild form an inherited scepticism of authority. A scalable requirement to be outwardly disruptive and inwardly sensitive. A low key connectivity built through regional endurance. For me the song is about struggle and resilience against policies of social and economic abandonment.” High Vis:   / highvis   https://highvisuk.com https://highvis.bandcamp.com/    / @highvisuk   https://linktr.ee/highvis Dais Records:   / daisrecords   https://daisrecords.com https://daisrecords.bandcamp.com    / @daisrecords     / daisrecords     / daisrecords   "0151" lyrics: This managed decline Won’t be televised Our days are numbered on the picket line We’re destitute and we’re demoralised Our suffering disguised as pride If you won’t give it then we’ll fucking take it Was told from early that we’ll never make it That this is all you’ll ever be You’ll live and die on the banks of the Mersey Our suffering sold as pride The memories plague your mind The river is dragged and dried Only the dirt is real Ghosts of the docks and the factories Are spectres of somebody’s history The river runs everything out to sea But we’re still here From Canning Town to Birkenhead The working class is as good as dead If you won’t give it then we’ll fucking take it Was told from early that we’ll never make it Our suffering sold as pride The memories plague your mind The river is dragged and dried Only the dirt is real Ghosts of the docks and the factories Are spectres of somebody’s history The river runs everything out to sea But we’re still here Yeah we’re still here