“LEISTON RISING

Yo,
Small town Leiston, feel the weight on the street,
Ever since Sizewell C came heat after heat.
Landlords smell money like blood in the night,
Jackin’ rents so high locals losin’ the fight.
Workers roll in from miles, drivin’ hours on end,
Danger pay in they pockets, corporations pretend
That the whole thing fair, but the truth stay raw —
Radiation in the past still cut like a saw.

Local folks earnin’ minimum, same job, same grind,
But the price of a room blowin’ out they mind.
How you pay that rent on a ten-year wage
When a bedroom cost same as a whole damn place?
Supermarket aisles see the struggle each day,
Bills hit harder than the work they pay.
So they point at the plant like it’s all its fault,
But the greed been here long before that vault.

Agencies slice wages, six quid off the top,
Stack profit on the workers who can’t make it stop.
Locals want a chance, but the gate won’t swing —
One mistake in the past and they lost everything.
Drug tests, checks — whole life on display,
One wrong step and you tossed away.
People tryin’ to cope just to breathe at night,
But the system look down like they ain’t got rights.

Benefits pay rent ‘cause the costs too steep,
Landlords raisin’ prices while the poor lose sleep.
Afraid to move out, afraid to fall through,
‘Cause the next place cost more than they ever could do.
Small town pressure like a loop on repeat,
But a spark still burn under every street.
Leiston ain’t broken, nah — it’s holdin’ its ground,
And a quiet small town still can shake the whole crown.

This the voice of the ones who can’t catch a break,
Of the ones who get taxed for every breath they take.
Old-school rhythm for the modern pain,
Where the poorest stand strong while the rich campaign.
And even if the rents rise sky-high still,
A united small town got an iron will.
So let this beat echo through the coast and rain:
Leiston gonna rise — remember the name.