They're pacing Piccadilly in packs again. And moaning for the mercy of a never come rain. The suns had enough and the simmering sky. Has the heave and the hue of a woman on fire. Shop shutters rattle down and I'm cutting the crowd. All scented and descending from the satellite towns. The neon is graffiti singing make a new start. So I look for a plot where I can bury my broken heart. No I know I won't forget you. But I'll forget myself if the city will forgive me. The man on the door has a head like Mars. Like a baby born to the doors of the bars. And surrounded by steam with his folded arms. He's got that urban genie thing going on. He's so mercifully free of the pressures of grace. Saint Peter in satin he's like Buddha with mace. He's so mercifully free of the pressures of grace. Saint Peter in satin he's like Buddha with mace. No I know I won't forget you. But I'll forget myself if the city will forgive me. No I know I won't forget you. But I'll forget myself if the city will forgive me. Do you move through the room with a glass in your hand. Thinking too hard about the way you stand. Are you watching them pair off and drinking them long. Are you falling in love every second song. Do you move through the room with a glass in your hand. Thinking too hard about the way you stand. Are you watching them pair off and drinking them long. Are you falling in love.... Are you falling in love.... Are you falling in love every second song. No I know I won't forget you. But I'll forget myself and the city will forgive me. by Gab'z