From Mitre Square to Baker's Row Through rain and fog and dusk He goes there, unafraid
He roams and watches people flow back In the street lamps' feeble glow From factory days
Light oh light!
A drunkard in a corner roars Untidy women quarrel and boast about their ways
Starving children in the cold In dirt and poverty they will grow Such is their fate
My, oh my!
This world's coming down Too late to try and turn things around Steam and coal made this city Yet man sought, man sought to be living
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He tracks her down to Miller's Court She knows she's been through this before She's not afraid
He knew about her all along He talks his way into her home The deal is made
He smiles a strange smile
They say a ripper's in town The word's spread through London for quite awhile Steel and blood made this city And knives tore, knives shocked the living
She smiles a strange smile
These social walls they should be falling, falling down I say, for sure, they should be falling, falling down These social walls should they should be taken, taken downTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
