I woke up in an alleyway In liverpool the ship of fools was sinking As I rose up from the depths I stumbled down the road a ways Found london in a haze of weary violence It is hard to get my rest In looking for the best of her Well I have seen the worst she's had to offer But there's nothing I'll not keep
England
Blood on the thorn of an english rose I gather belongings, travelling clothes Now slowly drifting out of london bridge It could be a year It could be ten Until she begs me back again And all my miles are measured in an inch
Every fear that's taken over This wide-eyed waking, rambling rover Has grown within the heart that is my home
