On the rundown streets of London
The checkout girl runs inside
The banker´s looking broken
And the grill in my head fries
I´m the clown who let you down
Wuh uh uh o

I wish I could stop wishing for things
I wish I could stop wishing for things
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh o

On the rundownstreets of London
The gangster bites his thumb
The courier looks lonesome
And the ink in my head runs
I´m the clown who let you down
Wuh uh uh o

I wish I could stop wishing for things
I wish I could stop wishing for things
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh o
I´m the clown who let you down
Wuh uh uh o

I wish I could stop wishing for things
I wish I could stop wishing for things
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh o

Wuh-uh-uh-uh-o…

The rundown streets of London