Bow Bells say goodbye to the last train. Over the river they all go again. Out into leafy nowhere. Hope someone's waiting out there. For them. Cabbie has his mind on a fare to the sun. He works nights but it's not much fun. Picks up the London yo-yo's. All on their own down Soho. Take me home. Other people wouldn't like to hear you. If you said. That these are the best days. Of our lives. Other people turn around and laugh at you. If you said. That these are the best days. Of our lives. Trellick Tower's been calling. I know she'll leave me in the morning. In hotel cells listening to dial tones. Remote controls and cable moans. In his drink he's talking. Gets disconnected sleepwalking back home. Other people wouldn't like to hear you. If you said. That these are the best days. Of our lives. Other people turn around and laugh at you. If you said. That these are the best days. Of our lives. Other people break into a cold sweat. If you said. That these are the best days. Of their lives. And other people turn around and laugh at you. If you said. That these are the best days. Of our lives. Of our lives.