cancel the car

to number ten

such a thick fog rolling in

I played my cards

on unreal glass

I left the party next to last


Friday night to Sunday morning I go on

I don't know if I am really here at all

Monday down to Friday night

I work all day

move emptily so emptily through Holloway


forget my face

I won't be back

I hear your friends have turned their backs

when summer comes

where Rose Street winds

the longing makes you close you eyes

it's unreal so unreal

to walk along these streets

it's unreal so unreal

to close your eyes and breathe


(chorus)


when I left you at the Coronet this morning

you said that your happiness was gone

but the hum of voices somehow brings me back here

though there's no happiness and there's no love


mid-afternoon

Lincoln's Inn

terraces though crying wind

before the night I disappear

what else can I do round here?