Driven home back from the city
Lead grey sky come wash us nearly
Can't you see there's no horizon?
In this speeding place called London
I don't think that this makes too much sense
Dampened soul come called fron slumber
Woken up; calmed like no other
As you moan you'll hear my laughter
You grow old, I grow young faster
I don't think that this makes too much sense
Can't you see?
I'm all used up
I need somebody to come and feed me