(JND)

Deep in the valley of the river of aire, I was there stroking my gingerish hair...

...erm...

(ExP)

Back when Paul Jewell was Bradford City manager
I'd wake up on Saturdays and watch Gazetta football Italia
I was an amateur with new glasses but packets of character
My sister wanted a Jaguar once she became a barrister
Got 1st so, she worked and worked though
She gave it all up for kids and a Peugeot
But that’s now, I'm talking way back
Writing battle raps on the internet - set to a Dre track
If I couldn’t listen to Westwood, I'd tape that
People say he's a twat - but he still introduced Britain to great acts
11 GCSE'S loomed - Teenager blues
With more craters on my face than you can see on the moon
Deep in the Valley; I hatched my plan
Hit up Rios on Wednesday and stand at a taxi rank
Try to blag it back to Bingley before my dad got mad
That I broke curfew and cooked some pasta at
Four in the morning; A typical teenager but porn was just boring
If its not girl on girl, I'd find it appalling
Why would I get off on something with balls in?
Hip Hop was my calling - but carnal instinct was talking
And about 15 it was killing me, I needed to lose my virginity
And I was on the internet, chatting to a fittie see; she hit on me
We chatted loads on the phone and decided to make it history
But a net date with a girl from Newcastle; was a huge hassle
But parents new I wanted to do battle; So they drove me all the way, Took her dad for a few amstels
While I got my first boob handful
Pleased cos, shit, I wasn’t a handsome man
The night before I went with my sister to Amsterdam
We got pissed and some lads she knew in band
Dedicated Carwash to me for getting my first shag

Chorus
Deep in the Valley of river of aire
I was taught by parents to give and to share
Brought up by Luniz and Fugees rhythm and snares
The worst song I ever heard was Bon Jovi's Live on a Prayer

Deep in the Valley of river of aire
Bradford made me who and what I am and gives me the where
From basketball to studying, my existence is rare
So it's necessary to make a track and give it some air

21, bout to turn 22 and I'll probably be 23 when I listen to this too
Trying to disprove a 6'2 big dude in a shit mood is a bit rude
'specially when I'm trying to fix food for the masses
Keep a track of where my cash is
Pull girls while wearing glasses and dodging bastards
Promoters that wanna fuck you backwards
And pretend like exposure's legal tender, the fuckin wankers
Organise a seven man band with more than 4 fans
Standing at the back, giving golf applause when we jam
Apparently indie guitar shit is where it's at
I should be singing bout a girl, or some other crap
But fuck that, I'll keep it rap, till a walking stick supports my back
In a rest home reciting Rakim and Nas
Telling my Grandkids that back in the day
We played 16 bit consoles and listened to Dre
Now they piss it away, wear clothes in a ridiculous way
Guys can kiss other guys, and this isn't gay?
Bring back the good old days, like 2007
Back when I was 22, hip-hop sound was my heaven
Work a 9-5 ensuring I could go out on a bread run
Either working on tunes or chilling with bredrin
Guess I'm just a-head of time, but living in the past
Forgiven by each lass I get with and jump ship in a flash
Guess that's just the way I am for now
Alone with a dressing gown as long as I can allow
Working on beats, trying to get a vaster sound
Wondering when I'll ask that girl from Asda out
But that's for now, the future is masked in doubt
And I need to stay happy and let the bastards down
Sometimes I've had to frown but I'm glad I've found
A valley I can call home - representing Bradford proud