Confess
And all the people thereAre sheltering from the cold windsOn the crest of the big bleak hillAnd Mary's got an argumentThe argument's quite loudAnd the shouting's entertainmentTo the other folk aroundAnd the gossips been getting out of handIt's a ruthless old soundAnd no ones out there working'Cos there's none to be foundAnd when the steam builds up inside youAnd there's no place to fallWell, there is nothing quite as harmfulAs the slow moving dayIt's a town that they make films aboutBecause the bleak's quite beautifulWhen the light and the delicate featuresAre captured very stillAnd so much far all the historyThe martyrs and the kingsWhen the fight that was the good fightWas the fight that you didn't winAnd all the people thereAre sheltering from the cold winds