From Northenden to Partington it’s rain
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From Altrincham to Chadderton it’s rain
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From Moss Side to Swinton hardly Spain
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It’s a picture postcard of “wish they never came”
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And whilst that deckchair in the garden it makes no sense
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It doesn’t spoil the view or cause offence
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Those Floridas, Bavarias and Kents
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Make gentlemen wear shorts but don’t make gents
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So convertible stay garage-bound
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Save after-sun for later
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If rain makes Britain great
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Then Manchester is greater
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As you dry your clothes once again
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Upon the radiator
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What makes Britain great
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Makes Manchester yet greater
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From Cheetham Hill to Wythenshawe it’s rain
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Gorton, Salford, Sale pretty much the same
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As I’m caught up without my jacket once again
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The raindrops on my face play a sweet refrain
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And as winter turns reluctantly to spring
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For the clouds above the city there’s one last fling
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Swallows build their nests, chaffinch sing
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And the sun strolls into town like long lost king
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And the mood of this whole sodden place is melancholy
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Like the sun came out to play, shone through the clouds
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But dropped its lolly
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And everyone looks so disappointed, so, so sorry
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Like the rain blew into town, kidnapped the sun
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And stole its brolly
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Manchester
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| The Beautiful South |
