Streets of London

Have you seen the old man in the closed down market?
Picking up the papers with his worn out shoes
In his eyes, you see no pride, handheld loosely at his side
Yesterday's papers telling yesterday's news

Have you seen the old dear who walks the streets of London?
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags
She's no time for talking, she just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home in two carrier bags

So how can you tell me that you're mourning
And you say for you that the sun don't shine
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something

In the all night café at a quarter past eleven
It's the same old man, he's sitting there on his own
Looking at the world over the rim of his teacup
And each tea lasts an hour, 'til he wanders home alone

So how can you tell me that you're mourning
And you say for you that the sun don't shine
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something
To make you change your mind