“The Streets of London”
In a city of six million souls
How can anyone be alone?
Come and walk a while with me
To see how this can be done.
I bet you thought this poem
Was the old song by Ralph Mctell
But these are the ‘new’ streets of London
My personal kind of hell.
The forgotten hero has died
A long long time ago
No one cared and no one cried
Everyone here’s on the go.
Old ladies still carry their homes
In two old carrier bags
But nobody pays them any mind
Now they’re just old hags.
The all night café is closed
No one drinks tea anymore
Sorry to ruin your song Ralph
But it isn’t like before.
So don’t you tell me that you’re lonely
No don’t say for you the sun don’t shine
Walk with me a while through the streets of my London
I bet you you’ll change your mind.
Poor Ralph must be turning in his grave
And I don’t think he is even dead yet
And if he’s not he’s bound to want some royalties
I guess that’s a sure bet.
But the streets of my London
Are not what Ralph’s were about
Mine are more that in the middle of six million people
No one can hear you shout.
Weeks can easily go by
Without me speaking to another human being
People pass me on the street
They’re looking but they are not seeing.
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 show through
The streets of London, if Ralph Mctell doesn’t mind.