Rainstorm, brainstorm, faces in the maelstrom
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Huddle by the puddles in the shadows where the drains run
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Hot dogs, wet clogs clicking up the sidewalk
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Disappearing into the booze shop
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Rainbow queues stand down by the news stand, waiting for the late show
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Pin ball, sin hall, minds in free fall
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Chocolate-coloured ladies making eyes through the smoke-pall
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Soho (needless to say)
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I'm alone on your streets on a Friday evening
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I've been here all of the day
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I'm going nowhere with nowhere to go
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Football supporters taking the waters
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They're looking round for the twilight daughters
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Non-stop strip club pornographic bookshop
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Come into the back and take your time and have a good look
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Old man laughs with flowers in his hair
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Newspaper headline "Middle East Deadline"
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Jazz musicians are down on the breadline
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Soho (needless to say)
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I'm alone on your streets on a Friday evening
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I've been here all of the day
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I'm going nowhere with nowhere to go
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Soho feeds the needs and hides the deeds, the mind that bleeds
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Disenchanted, downstream in the night
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Soho hears the lies, the twisted cries, the lonely sighs
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Till she seems lost in dreams
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The sun goes down on a neon eon
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Though you'd have a job explaining it to Richard Coeur de Lion
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Animation, bar conversation, anticipation, disinclination
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Poor old wino turns with dust in his eyes
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Begs for the dregs from the bottom of the kegs, man
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You've never seen a lady lay down and spread her legs like
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Soho (needless to say)
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I'm alone on your sheets on a Friday evening
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I've been here all of the day
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I'm going nowhere with nowhere to go
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Soho (needless to say)
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I'm alone on your streets, or am I dreaming
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I've been here all of the day
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I'm going nowhere with nowhere to go
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Soho (Needless To Say)
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| Al Stewart |
