| London is my town
|
| But now the wise man stays underground
|
| Above the creepers creep
|
| And a steal our spirit while we sleep
|
| Ancient photograph
|
| In sepia days our mothers laughed
|
| But now the face is blank
|
| They take it all and give none back
|
| I’m gonna leave it to the dogs
|
| Let them pick the bones
|
| Gonna leave it to the dogs
|
| I’m going home
|
| Beneath the skin of saints
|
| Little devils of worm their way
|
| Into our sacred heart
|
| And so the seed that tears first us apart
|
| Repeat chorus
|
| London is my town
|
| But now the wise man stays underground
|
| Above the creepers crawl
|
| And tear the house down wall to wall |