Sun dark on darker streets.
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It's violent times for weary feet:
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Carjackers and bullet showers,
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A yellow sign,
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Too many fools in power.
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But see - I will be gone by morning.
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My dear friend, I lost a fight
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Forget me. I wash hands in your grey slowing night.
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Coming down from darkened heights.
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I taste the Thames with my cycle lights.
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By Saint Paul's, by Big Ben.
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By God's name, I repent.
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But see - I will be gone by morning.
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My dear London, goodnight.
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Forget me, I wash my myself in your grey river light.
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London
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Patrick Wolf |