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London

by Patrick Wolf

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Sun dark on darker streets.
It´s violent times for weary feet:
Carjackers and bullet showers,
A yellow sign,
Too many fools in power.
But see - I will be gone by morning.
My dear friend, I lost a fight
Forget me. I wash hands in your grey slowing night.

Coming down from darkened heights.
I taste the Thames with my cycle lights.
By Saint Paul´s, by Big Ben.
By God´s name, I repent.
But see - I will be gone by morning.
My dear London, goodnight.
Forget me, I wash my myself in your grey river light.
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