Meet me on the edges of this city, meet me where the underground runs out
Bring a picnic blanket and your pity, a pen and paper, so I can write things down
Mother, oh dear mother,
I wasn't joking when I said that I plan to keep doing this until the day I'm dead
And I'm not a mirror for you when you were young,
But I still remain your faithful only son
Lately I've been feeling kind of fragile, lately I've been feeling all worn out
What would any of us do if all the dreams we had came true?
What would there be left to dream about?
Father, oh dear father,
I'm not trying to reject the values that you held like winning cards up to your chest
And I can't just do the things you wished you'd done,
But I still remain your faithful only son
The city seems so still, looking down from Highgate Hill
There's nothing left for us to say: you taught me everything I know
You wouldn't miss me if I stay, you'd never see me if I go
This is no confession now, this is who I am
You made me in your image so you have to understand that I did my best as told
And so have become your loving and your faithful only son