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Have you seen the old man, |
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in the closed down market, |
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picking up the papers, |
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with his worn out shoes, |
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in his eyes you see no pride, |
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and hanging loosely at his side, |
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yesterdays paper, |
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telling yesterdays news, |
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so how can you tell me you're lonely, |
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and say for you that the sun don't shine, |
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well let me take you by the hand, |
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and lead you through the streets of london, |
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i'll show you something to make you change your mind, |
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And have you seen the old dear, |
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who walks the streets of london, |
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dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags, |
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she's no time for talking, |
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she just keeps right on walking, |
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carrying her home, |
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in two carrier bags, |
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so how can you tell me you're lonely, |
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and say for you that the sun don't, |
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well let me take you by the hand, |
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and lead you through the streets of london, |
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i'll show you something to make you change your mind, |
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And in the all night cafe, |
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at a quarter past eleven, |
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same old man, |
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sitting there on his own, |
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and each tea lasts an hour, |
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and he wanders home alone, |
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so how can you tell me that you're lonely, |
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and say for you that the sun don't shine, |
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well let me take you by the hand, |
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and lead you through the streets of london, |
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i'll show you something to make you change your mind, |
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And have you seen the old man, |
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outside the seaman's mission, |
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memory fading with the medal ribbons that he wears, |
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and in the winter city, |
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the rain cries a little ditty, |
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one more forgotten hero, |
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and a world that doesn't care, |
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so how can you tell me that you're lonely, |
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and say for you that the sun don't shine, |
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well let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of london, |
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i'll show you something to make you change your mind. |
