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Hands locked in darkness - a nocturnal greeting |
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We flutter like moths round the brazier's flame |
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Shrouded in shadow - our clandestine meeting |
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Here where past and present are one and the same. |
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No-one dies in |
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Cardboard |
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City Faces only fade away |
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Eat your pride and take their pity |
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Fight to live another day. |
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And did those feet in ancient times |
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Walk bare upon these lonely streets like mine? |
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Does God watch us from that penthouse high above |
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His children down below who live on air and love? |
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Wrapped in old headlines beneath this shop awning |
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I shiver in silence and wait for the morning. |
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No-one cries in |
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Cardboard |
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City That would be a waste of tears |
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Eat your pride and take their pity |
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Like you have so many years. |
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Youth of our nation - |
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A lost generation |
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Like lepers we march to the chimes of |
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Big Ben. Exiled and rejected by powers elected |
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Our cries from the gutter don't reach number ten. |
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Give us this day our daily bread |
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Before the headlines read "bring out your dead." |
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Chip-wrapper flowers are blown onto this cardboard grave |
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My spray paint epitaph upon the wall it says... "Here lies the bones of some poor homeless vagrant He died as he lived, in the shit on the pavement." |
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No-one dies in |
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Cardboard |
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City Faces only fade away |
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Eat your pride and take their pity |
|
Fight to live another day. |
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No-one cries in |
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Cardboard |
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City That would be a waste of tears |
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Eat your pride and take their pity |
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Like you have so many years. |
