Streets of London

Höfundur lags: Ralph McTell Höfundur texta: Ralph McTell Flytjandi: Ralph McTell Sent inn af: Anonymous
[D]Have you seen the [A]old man
By the cl[Bm]osed down [F#m]market
[G]Kicking up the p[D]apers with his [E7]worn out [A]shoes
[D]In his eyes you'll [A]see no pride
[Bm]Hand held loosely [F#m]by his side
[G]Yesterday's [D]paper, telling [A7]yesterday's [D]news.

So, [G]how can you [D]tell me that you're lo[A7]ne-l   [Bm]y   
[E7]And say for you the sun don't sh[A7]ine   
L[D]et me take you b[A]y the hand
And l[Bm]ead you through the str[F#m]eets of London
[G]I'll show you s[D]omething
to m[A7]ake you change your m[D]ind.

H[D]ave you seen the [A]old girl
Who w[Bm]alks the streets of L[F#m]ondon    
D[G]irt in her h[D]air and her cl[E7]othes all in r[A]ags  
Sh[D]e's no time for t[A]alking
She just k[Bm]eeps right on w[F#m]alking
C[G]arrying her h[D]ome in tw[A7]o carrier b[D]ags.

[D]In the all night c[A]afe  
At a q[Bm]uarter past el[F#m]even    
S[G]ame old m[D]an sitting th[E7]ere on his [A]own  
L[D]ooking at the w[A]orld
over the r[Bm]im of his t[F#m]eacup    
[G]each tea lasts an h[D]our  
and he w[A7]anders home al[D]one  

H[D]ave you seen the [A]old man
outs[Bm]ide the seamen's m[F#m]ission
M[G]emory fading with the
m[D]edal r[E7]ibbon that he w[A]ears
[D]in our winter c[A]ity  
The rain cr[Bm]ies a little p[F#m]ity    
for one m[G]ore forgotten h[D]ero  
In a w[A7]orld that doesn't c[D]are.

Have you seen the old man
By the closed down market
Kicking up the papers with his worn out shoes
In his eyes you'll see no pride
Hand held loosely by his side
Yesterday's paper, telling yesterday's news.

So, how can you tell me that you're lone-ly
And say for you 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.

Have you seen the old girl
Who walks the streets of London
Dirt in her hair and her clothes all in rags
She's no time for talking
She just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home in two carrier bags.

In the all night cafe
At a quarter past eleven
Same old man sitting there on his own
Looking at the world
over the rim of his teacup
each tea lasts an hour
and he wanders home alone

Have you seen the old man
outside the seamen's mission
Memory fading with the
medal ribbon that he wears
in our winter city
The rain cries a little pity
for one more forgotten hero
In a world that doesn't care.

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