london calling
it's grey outside
and the sound of The Clash
is rattling around in my head like a secret.
the raindrops kinda tug at my fingers
begging me to come along
into the misery,
deeper into that giant puddle.
but i'm fighting.
as the English keep wailing,
i keep walking
knowing there's a chance
my feet won't get tired.
and the sound of The Clash
is rattling around in my head like a secret.
the raindrops kinda tug at my fingers
begging me to come along
into the misery,
deeper into that giant puddle.
but i'm fighting.
as the English keep wailing,
i keep walking
knowing there's a chance
my feet won't get tired.