Oh, how I wish I could drag you down here,
|
Pull these feet far from the ground
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Cause this, this city ain't no friend of mine
|
Ain't no friend.
|
|
All I can do
|
When the tracks stop at the final destination
|
Is just push on through,
|
The weariness and silences of such a crowded situation here.
|
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All I can do
|
When every brick, every bar, every elegance I see, I see her face,
|
Is just push on, just push on through,
|
These embers of memories that float from the fire, from the fire of this place.
|
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So don't give up on me now,
|
Oh these legs that'll walk me home.
|
|
Because it's only concrete and cars,
|
It's only sirens and missing stars,
|
It's only whiskey and disregard
|
In the smallest hours here, when I feel alone.
|
|
All I can do
|
When these lights, they haunt me like orchids in a graveyard,
|
Is just just push on, just push on through
|
These faces of dust and stone,
|
The dirt and bone of loss.
|
|
So don't give up on me now,
|
Oh these legs that'll walk me home.
|
|
Because it's only concrete and cars,
|
It's only sirens and missing stars,
|
It's only whiskey and disregard
|
In the smallest hours here, when I feel alone.
|
|
And I hope, Paris is as beautiful as I've been told
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And that everything you do is galvanized in gold.
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|
-----------------
|
London
|
| Ben Howard |
