What it says on the tin pretty much!
The Workhouse
There is a town in middle England,
There is a town deep in this land,
Beyond that town in middle England,
Beyond the streets there grimly stands
A silent house of isolation
Red brick and slate it stands apart;
The workshouse stands in desolation
And like its memories won't depart,
Chorus;
Step through the door,
Walk through the hall,
You'll hear a voice speak from the wall,
You'll hear a voice you cannot hear,
So far away, so very near,
So very near
There is a path up to the workhouse,
The paupers' path, the paupers pain,
Walk up the path up to the workhouse
And feel the paupers walk again,
You'll feel the shame and desperation,
You'll feel the hunger and the fear,
You'll feel the blame and recrimination
You'll feel the tread you cannot hear,
CHORUS
From every window in the workhouse,
You'll se the view the paupers had,
From every window in the workhouse,
You'll feel the pain, you'll feel the sadness
You'll feel the aching wish to be with
The ones from who they're torn apart
You'll the feel the waking wish to see them,
Though what you see may break your heart;
CHORUS