We're up on the 20th floor,
You can see every city from here,
You can see where the bomb went off,
Where they stitched a new street in the cloth
And there you are at the window with the sunlight on all your skin,
Every woman that I ever wanted, every city that I want to live in,
Here in this room, here in this room.

We came here for a weekend, to build ourselves from ground up,
To walk and talk and kiss, to eat and drink and fuck,
And later we put our clothes on, and stride past the old and the new,
With grins as wide as the canal, as loud and high as the factory,
A boy wrapped around a girl in a city wrapped around a town.
Fucking Manchester!

And later still we're kissing in the John Rylands Library,
In front of a fragment of paper that is older than we'll ever be,
This city took centuries to build, we're babies compared to it,
Trying to lay some foundations, while floating high in the air,
So many abandoned buildings, shadows and ghosts everywhere,
But this is how it starts, however much it hurts,
This is how it starts, with love and hope in our hearts.
Fucking Manchester!