| Song | England 1914 |
| Artist | Ralph McTell |
| Album | Streets Of London - Best Of |
| 作词 : McTell | |
| Night stirs her inky finger | |
| In the water of the day, | |
| The tired sun drops slowly in the sky. | |
| And everywhere the gentle air | |
| Hangs heavy with the day song | |
| Evening calls the lamplight out to come. | |
| Children's wooden hoops | |
| Go clattering down the street | |
| Soon they're called inside, it's getting late. | |
| The grand canal | |
| Now splashed with red | |
| Reflects on swallows wings. | |
| The lamplighter knows the song | |
| The evening sings. | |
| But the gas-lamps stand like soldiers | |
| Hiss warnings to the wind | |
| Their evening vespers prophicy a war. | |
| The world divides | |
| And men take sides | |
| The spark bursts into flame | |
| Nothing can be quite the same again. | |
| Dog barks in the distance | |
| Child cries in her sleep | |
| Night waits for the dawn with baited breath. | |
| The old school, the old rule | |
| Rung out on a muffinman's bell | |
| The lamplighter has made his nightly call. | |
| Dreams of hope and peace | |
| Sent clattering down the streets | |
| Empty like the promises they made. | |
| The wars rage on, and different wrongs | |
| Will someone please explain | |
| That peace is not the lamplighter | |
| 'Cos he's not coming back again. |
| zuò cí : McTell | |
| Night stirs her inky finger | |
| In the water of the day, | |
| The tired sun drops slowly in the sky. | |
| And everywhere the gentle air | |
| Hangs heavy with the day song | |
| Evening calls the lamplight out to come. | |
| Children' s wooden hoops | |
| Go clattering down the street | |
| Soon they' re called inside, it' s getting late. | |
| The grand canal | |
| Now splashed with red | |
| Reflects on swallows wings. | |
| The lamplighter knows the song | |
| The evening sings. | |
| But the gaslamps stand like soldiers | |
| Hiss warnings to the wind | |
| Their evening vespers prophicy a war. | |
| The world divides | |
| And men take sides | |
| The spark bursts into flame | |
| Nothing can be quite the same again. | |
| Dog barks in the distance | |
| Child cries in her sleep | |
| Night waits for the dawn with baited breath. | |
| The old school, the old rule | |
| Rung out on a muffinman' s bell | |
| The lamplighter has made his nightly call. | |
| Dreams of hope and peace | |
| Sent clattering down the streets | |
| Empty like the promises they made. | |
| The wars rage on, and different wrongs | |
| Will someone please explain | |
| That peace is not the lamplighter | |
| ' Cos he' s not coming back again. |