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Cilla Black
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Streets of London
Have you seen the old man in the closed-down market
Kicking up the paper, with his worn out shoes
In his eyes you see no pride hand held loosely at his side
Yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news
So how can you tell me you're lonely,
And say for you that the sun don't shine
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
Show you something to make you change your mind
Have you seen the old girl who walks the streets of London
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags
She's no time for talking, she just keeps right on walking
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Carrying her home in two carrier bags.
In the all night cafe at a quarter past eleven,
Same old man sitting there on his own
Looking at the world over the rim of his teacup,
Each tea lasts an hour and he wanders home alone
Have you seen the old man outside the Seaman's Mission
Memory fading with the medal ribbons that he wears
In our winter city, the rain cries a little pity
For one more forgotten hero and a world that doesn't care
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