Bow Bells strike another night
|
Your eyes are heavy and your limbs all ache
|
You've bought some coffee, butter and bread
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You can't make a thing cause the metre's dead
|
You moved away
|
Told your folks you're gonna stay away
|
|
Bright lights, Soho, Wardour street
|
You hope you make friends with the guys that you meet
|
Somebody shows you round
|
Now you've met the London boys
|
Things seem good again, someone cares about you
|
|
Oh, the first time that you tried a pill
|
You feel a little queasy, decidedly ill
|
You're gonna be sick, but you mustn't lose face
|
To let yourself down would be a big disgrace
|
With the London boys, with the London boys
|
|
You're only seventeen, but you think you've grown
|
In the month you've been away from your parents' home
|
You take the pills too much
|
You don't give a damn about the job you've got
|
So long as you're with the London boys
|
|
A London boy, oh a London boy
|
Your flashy clothes are your pride and joy
|
A London boy, a London boy
|
You think you've had a lot of fun
|
But you ain't got nothing, you're on the run
|
It's too late now, cause you're out there boy
|
You've got it made with the rest of the toys
|
Now you wish you'd never left your home
|
You've got what you wanted but you're on your own
|
With the London boys
|
|
Now you've met the London boys
|
Now you've met the London boys
|
Now you've met the London boys
|
|
-----------------
|
The London Boys
|
| David Bowie |
