Stain-glass people filling the sooty city but he's sleeping Ageing raver part-time shaver ageing raver
Eight in the morning daydreams are forming but he's sleeping Ageing raver part-time shaver ageing raver
He's a younger version of a face upon a picture inside an antique locket Staggering around outside of time inside the candy of a bottle in his pocket He's no idea which way the sun has gone Hyde Park Corner on Sunday and Whitehall's a terribly good place to sit And Newquay's a good beach to lie on and dry in the sun and sing "Trouble in Mind" Fifty times in-between every trip Ageing raver part-time shaver ageing raver
Party at midnight waterloo station everyone smiling Ageing raver part-time shaver ageing raver
Her mummy's in Bermuda - Daddy's trying hard to lose her. The King's Road's absolutely full of holes
Picasso's in the bathroom marble couches in the toilet and a bidet in the Rolls And Wimpole Street hormone like an ocean never drains The see-saw city of London - The jigsaw puzzle of light The flashing elastic confusion of all that's been done - and the reasons for doing That all disappeared in the night