Streets Of London
Sinead O'Connor, Mary Hopkins, et al.
Have you seen the old man, in the closed-down market
kicking up the papers, with his worn-out shoes?
In his eyes you'd see no pride, hand held loosely by his side
yesterday's papers, telling yesterday's news
So how can you tell me, you're lonely
and say for you the sun don't shine?
Let me take you by the hand,
and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something, to make you change your mind.
Have you seen the old girl, who walks the streets of London
Dirt in her hair, and her clothes in rags?
She's no time for talking, she just keeps right on walking.
Carrying her home, in two carrier bags.
In the all-night cafe, at a quarter past eleven
Same old man sitting there, on his own.
Looking at the world, over the rim of his tea-cup.
Each tea lasts an hour, then he wanders home alone.
Have you seen the old man outside the Seaman's Mission
Memory fading with the medal ribbons that he wears.
In our winter city, the rain crys a little pity,
For one more forgotten hero, and a world that doesn't care.