Lions

Red sun go down way over dirty town
Starlings are sweeping around crazy shoals
A girl is there high heeling across the square
Wind blows around in her hair and the flags upon the poles
Waiting in the crowd to cross at the light
She looks around to find a face she can like

Church bell clinging on trying to get a crowd for evensong
Nobody cares to depend upon the chime it plays
Theyre all in the station praying for trains
Congregation late again
Its getting darker all the time these flagpole days
Drunk old soldier he gives her a fright
Hes a crazy lion howling for a fight

Strap hanging gunshot sound
Doors slamming on the overground
Starlings are tough but the lions are made of stone
Her evening paper is horror torn
But theres hope later for capricorns
Her lucky stars give her just enough to get her home
Then shes reading about a swing to the right
But shes thinking about a stranger in the night
Im thinking about the lions tonight
What happened to the lions