Broken hours enter twine
Before words that can define
The shape of empty space
In shadows of nobel grace
Alter shape to disguise
Human form that we despise
Sadness we swallow whole
Is grief beyond control
We are the s** people
Fold your arms around the night
Breathe my dear you're slipping
Fall into the black of night
Tears are falling into the rain
LONDON speaks into the night
Take my hand and slip away
We are the s** people