It's true to say
That we're a breed apart
The mill-fire's in our eyes
The moors are in our hearts
From an ancient town
With a gravity of its own
And the souls so proud
Hear her bleak wind moan
Think you'll get one over me?
Motherf**er, wait and see
We'll tell you once
And we'll tell you briefly
f** you - we're from Keighley
We hail the past
And our fathers' industry
That holds the greying gables
Of every stone we see
An anachronistic bruise
On the knuckle of history
'Twas no more in '74
Or that's what they believe
Think you'll get one over me?
Motherf**er, wait and see
We'll tell you once
And we'll tell you briefly
f** you - we're from Keighley
It's true to say
That we're a breed apart
The mill-fire's in our eyes
The moors are in our hearts
From an ancient town
With a gravity of its own
And the souls so proud
Hear her bleak wind moan
Think you'll get one over me?
Motherf**er, wait and see
We'll tell you once
And we'll tell you briefly
f** you - we're from Keighley