A wide eyed girl in a tunnel visioned world
Aches, pains and medicinal strains
Battered and born
Tattered and torn
In her red brick town with a trench coat frown
Soaking wet, with no means of heat
The insulation has gone
This must be defeat
She defies the men who stand brave and tall
Under the pressure is her courage, she is taking it all
A hat topping madness stares at Grace through her looking glass
As the record plays, screaming ‘this is for the working class’
Her rumbling stomach versus the borrowed hi-fi
Spitting at her sovereign, racking up some white lies
She’s got a safety pin attitude
Uniform of the nude
A broken purse with an unbroken mind
This is feud.
And who is the speaker speaking about?