There are lights on the water They shine on a river From St. Pauls down to Gravesend, They shine to the sea And I'm sick and I'm tired Footsore and weary The faces of London, got nothing on me Got by on a coffee Songs of the rivers, of the Hills and old ways And the faces of London No time for the stopping Each one an island, in a big lonely sea The wind blows the paper Past the underground stations The streets are deserted And cold as a grave I remember on leaving Your last words so well You'll always survive, If you've something to sell Now it's four in the morning The cold neon mourning There's a Rolls rolling homeward And the driver he's yawning And I'm sharing this moment With a drunk and a bottle Two faces of London with nowhere to go