At the Chime of a City Clock

A city freeze, get on your knees

Pray for warmth and green paper

A city drought, you're down and out

See your trousers don't taper

Saddle up, kick your feet

Ride the range of a London street

Travel to a local plane

Turn around and come back again

And at the chime of a city clock

Put up your road block

Hang on to your crown

For a stone in a tin can

Is wealth to the city man

Who leaves his armour down

Stay indoors, beneath the floors

Talk with neighbours only

The games you play make people say

You're either weird or lonely

A city star won't shine too far

On account of the way you are

And the beads around your face

Make you sure to fit back in place

And at the beat of a city drum

See how your friends come

In twos, or threes, or more

For the sound of a busy place

Is fine for a pretty face

Who knows what a face is for

The city clown will soon fall down

Without a face to hide in

And he will lose if he won't choose

The one he may confide in

Sonny boy with smokes for sale

Went to ground with a face so pale

And never heard about the change

Showed his hand and fell out of range

In the light of a city square

Find out the face that's fair

Keep it by your side

When the light of the city falls

You fly to the city walls

Take off with your bride

But at the chime of a city clock

Put up your road block

Hang on to your crown

For a stone in a tin can

Is wealth to the city man

Who leaves his armour down