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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