Trams of old London,. Taking my baby into the past in it.. Trams of old London blow my mind.. . Ludgate, Fenchurch, Highgate Hill;. Rolling slowly up there still, uh-huh..
Well, if your name's Mucky, you can count yourself lucky. That you're still walking 'round on four feet. 'Cause I tell you right now though I don't how.
The face of death is my best friend. He lurks behind my favourite vent. And though we meet we never speak. I've got a feeling he's unique. He looks so crushed but he's alright.
Trams of old London. Taking my baby into the past in it. Trams of old London blow my mind. Ludgate, Fenchurch, Highgate Hill. Rolling slowly up there still, uh-huh.
The old man, he was flesh-they wheeled him in upon a trolley. Vera Lynn, Vera Lynn. Draw a window on his skin. This old man, he was next-blindfolded to face the volley.
I was walking home when I heard you knock. There were two of you, it was such a shock. There was one that cried on the telephone. And the other laughed deep inside my bone.
He came bursting out of nowhere like a sphere into the sun. And he cast his light on everything, it was like he never died. And he landed right on target, but the target rolled away.
I'm sitting here, in the abandoned brain,. Waiting for take off in it.. They says its never going to work again,. But I can spare a few minutes.. Been here before, in the abandoned brain,.