London

So Long Sweetness...
 Now, Now the curtain falls without a trace left to hold
 There's only time, Time to sleep, tob, to be alone
 To break the spell In the heart of nights of lack of
 sleep to sustain yourself
 To end all sighs Tearing hard from a transatlantic grip
 From below, London, Far below, Faces are crying out.
 Feel, now you know it's the season of the witch
 It doesn't twitch The kinda wound that might of fooled the diggers ditch
 You know it goes like this
 Alarming, disarming not a face to bear
 At a certain pitch
 Tables turning faster harder Noise keeps pumping louder louder
 It'll drip below London
 More and more, mothers are crying hard.
 So Long Sweetness... Take what you've chosen, look at what you've chosed