| This is London, the place where you’re a god or a disgrace
|
| The whole wide world at your feet to see the look upon your face
|
| As you watch the BBC and you think, «Well, what if that was me?»
|
| Such a promising life to waste
|
| You told me, «Just be brave. |
| Remember all the gifts you gave
|
| And how you felt like you were saved
|
| Like you were singing from beyond the grave.»
|
| And you said you’d wait for me until the day I could sing on key
|
| «There's just something about your face.»
|
| Then you’d call, I could feel your body fall down next to me
|
| And I wanted us to be fast asleep, closer than anything to me
|
| Like we were home again…
|
| There was just no way to know what was real and what was show
|
| A future unfolding before my eyes, and a past that I could not let go
|
| And how the feeling is so deep
|
| When you’re running down the London streets
|
| Like there’s nowhere left to go
|
| Among the faceless dizzy whores, the unimaginable bores
|
| Evenings stumbling from the pub, mornings shivering on the floor
|
| Then the careless way you say, «Yeah, we were just glad we got to play.»
|
| When you’re empty to the core
|
| Then you’d call, I could feel your body fall down next to me
|
| And I wanted us to be fast asleep, closer than anything to me
|
| Like we were home again
|
| I’m so tired of the rain
|
| This is London, the place where you get lost without a trace
|
| Among the beautiful remains of this shattered human race
|
| All the words that go unsaid, all the sacrifices of the dead
|
| «We'll fall quietly into the past or we’ll just burn the streets instead»
|
| In the clamoring of the crowd, you think, «I'll just stay quiet, instead.»
|
| All the fallen dizzy angels crawling through the street
|
| The pleas of people weary on their feet
|
| And you’re half a world away from me
|
| As the clouds drown the light
|
| I wonder where you are tonight |