Standard (EADGBE)
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 roadblock
Hang onto 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 neighbors only
The games you play make people say
You're either wierd 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 all 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
A seller 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 the 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 roadblock
Hang onto your crown
For a stone in a tin can is wealth to the city man
Who leaves his armour down
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