Somewhere near central London
I imagine not so far from Trafalgar Square
And the lions
There lives an older gentleman
Who teas with BBC and Britain's ghost
His lady companion by his side.
Oh yes, I see him now.
And cross the deep blue sea
I cannot smell
Inside a symphony
The "Pastorale".
So besides the black rats swimming
I watch the English evening skies
Reflect my heart
As I walk behind him,
Looking for what's been lost
Like looking over all the trees
Of Hampstead Heath
Now before us in the twilight.
No, I can't bear it now.
And cross the deep blue sea
I cannot smell
Inside a symphony
The "Pastorale".
A jacket and hat...the only trace...
Two gold rings...
But never fades.
A jacket and hat...the only trace
Two gold rings...
But never fades...
A face....
