So fire it is, to make our dark streets clean again like a 'reset' button on our lives, like hands of god just dusting off the blackboard... and with all we've worked for gone, and all we cherished lost, we can start again.
So play your violin and breathe the sulphur in take it on the chin as London sheds its skin. Play your violin and try to hide your grin as it burns away your sin, and London sheds its skin
"where are your churches and libraries? where are your books and memories?"