Faces Of London - Magna Carta

There are lights on the water

they shine on a river

from St. Pauls down to Gravesend,

they shine to the sea

and I’m sick and I’m tired

footsore and weary

the faces of London, got nothing on me

got by on a coffee

songs of the rivers, of the

hills and old ways

and the faces of London

no time for the stopping

each one an island, in a big lonely sea

the wind blows the paper

past the underground stations

the streets are deserted

and cold as a grave

I remember on leaving

your last words so well

you’ll always survive,

if you’ve something to sell

now it’s four in the morning

the cold neon mourning

there’s a Rolls rolling homeward

and the driver he’s yawning

and I’m sharing this moment

with a drunk and a bottle

two faces of London with nowhere to go