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Johnny Flynn A Larum Eyeless In Holloway There's a man at hand There's a way between The sinking sand And a crooked dream And collared off at the modern age of nine Summoned off for walking down the line They lost eyes in old city streets Where the funeral pyres burned the last of the meek He filled his boots And he tipped his cap And a root to toot With the boss and that And told a girl of the summer by the sea Said to her would you like to go with me Wind is turned And the concord trucks (?) And the singers changed And the hard to soft In with changes, always out with time Nothing left but walking down the line They lost eyes in old city streets Where the funeral pyres burned the last of the meek Dragging loose less through the den And I come out less with sporting wear More to fit than you'd be feeling now She is aware that he is always how Then her sweetness and his sweeter scented And her fury's swimming til the fury's bended And lost in all might be to lost in time What joy the darts might be to walk the line They lost eyes in old city streets Where the funeral pyres burned the last of the meek They lost eyes in old city streets Where the funeral pyres burned the last of the meek They lost eyes in old city streets Where the funeral pyres burned the last of the meek |
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