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They are the victims of the night |
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Ride against the wind, born to lose the fight |
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They fill the doorways, they come far |
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Holding what they bring, details on a card |
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And on a rainy night like this |
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Someone shuts the door, goodbye on their lips |
|
They are the victims of the night |
|
Ride against the wind, born to lose the fight |
|
They fill the doorways, they come far |
|
Holding what they bring, details on a card |
|
And on a rainy night like this |
|
Someone shuts the door, goodbye on their lips |
|
There is no charity from where they come |
|
There's nothing left to be |
|
In stark reality thy will be done |
|
For you, for them, for me |
|
How far Jerusalem |
|
Before the heart breaks down |
|
No kings among them |
|
Cold feet in London town |
|
How far Jerusalem |
|
Oh, broken hearted clown |
|
We stand among them |
|
Cold feet in London town |
|
They are in search of liberty's trail |
|
Equal in their eyes, faces drawn and pale |
|
So many hearts have gone before |
|
Probably ignored, crashing to the floor |
|
They are the victims of the night |
|
Ride against the wind, born to lose the fight |
|
There is no charity from where they come |
|
There's nothing left to be |
|
In stark reality thy will be done |
|
For you, for them, for me |
|
How far Jerusalem |
|
Before the heart breaks down |
|
No kings among them |
|
Cold feet in London town |
|
How far Jerusalem |
|
Oh, broken hearted clown |
|
We stand among them |
|
Cold feet in London town |
|
How far Jerusalem |
|
Before the heart breaks down |
|
No kings among them |
|
Cold feet in London town |
|
How far Jerusalem |
|
Oh, broken hearted clown |
|
We stand among them |
|
Cold feet in London town |
|
How far Jerusalem |