farewell to my city
Farewell To My City
fthc - 4:13
So here it is, the ending:
The one that neither of us ever thought was coming,
The black letter day when we’re finally, irrevocably done,
And I am really, actually leaving the place I used to call home.
7,300 days, give or take,
Of swearing blind I wouldn’t leave, that I’d always stay.
But strange as it sounds, when the change came around,
I realised there were plenty of vows
I made as a kid that I’d broken,
But that kid got lost somewhere around Camden.
So I took a walk the other day from Soho up to Alexandra Park,
From the student halls where I started,
Past a thousand bars I haunted, broken-hearted, after dark,
Past the bus stop outside Warren Street
Where in my headphones I first heard that heavy new beat
That would whisk me up to Kentish Town,
Where me and the Deads laid down our first words, our first skittish sounds.
But I started feeling a little trapped, a little hemmed in,
Walking over the hill, heading northeast from Camden,
Up towards Holloway, and that magic flat where me and Dave
Kept plugging at the white aways until we’d been up for however many days
And the FOMO that started out in Soho just ended up with little to show
Except old ghosts and new lows.
And then I started to relax and to breathe a little easier,
As my path turned north towards Hornsey, past the back of Nambucca.
And all the morning returns from tour, and all the street corners where I used to score,
Got overshadowed by the Hogs Back and a certain special someone,
And the whispered possibility of something more.
And as I crested the hill and looked down upon Crouch End,
Alexandra Palace on the next rise, arms open like an old friend,
I realised this part of my journey was coming to a close,
And how our lives will be after, nobody knows.
I guess I got older, that’s how it goes,
And I know it sounds weak but I’ll still see you at shows.
I got tired of London, not tired of life.
I’m so sorry, my darling, to leave you behind.
We had a hell of a run there, but I must go down to the sea.
While you’re always changing, it wasn’t you, it was me.
Farewell to my city.
I’m just one more of your ghosts.
I’ll still see you at shows.
London,you can keep my bones.
So it goes, so it goes.
The one that neither of us ever thought was coming,
The black letter day when we’re finally, irrevocably done,
And I am really, actually leaving the place I used to call home.
7,300 days, give or take,
Of swearing blind I wouldn’t leave, that I’d always stay.
But strange as it sounds, when the change came around,
I realised there were plenty of vows
I made as a kid that I’d broken,
But that kid got lost somewhere around Camden.
So I took a walk the other day from Soho up to Alexandra Park,
From the student halls where I started,
Past a thousand bars I haunted, broken-hearted, after dark,
Past the bus stop outside Warren Street
Where in my headphones I first heard that heavy new beat
That would whisk me up to Kentish Town,
Where me and the Deads laid down our first words, our first skittish sounds.
But I started feeling a little trapped, a little hemmed in,
Walking over the hill, heading northeast from Camden,
Up towards Holloway, and that magic flat where me and Dave
Kept plugging at the white aways until we’d been up for however many days
And the FOMO that started out in Soho just ended up with little to show
Except old ghosts and new lows.
And then I started to relax and to breathe a little easier,
As my path turned north towards Hornsey, past the back of Nambucca.
And all the morning returns from tour, and all the street corners where I used to score,
Got overshadowed by the Hogs Back and a certain special someone,
And the whispered possibility of something more.
And as I crested the hill and looked down upon Crouch End,
Alexandra Palace on the next rise, arms open like an old friend,
I realised this part of my journey was coming to a close,
And how our lives will be after, nobody knows.
I guess I got older, that’s how it goes,
And I know it sounds weak but I’ll still see you at shows.
I got tired of London, not tired of life.
I’m so sorry, my darling, to leave you behind.
We had a hell of a run there, but I must go down to the sea.
While you’re always changing, it wasn’t you, it was me.
Farewell to my city.
I’m just one more of your ghosts.
I’ll still see you at shows.
London,you can keep my bones.
So it goes, so it goes.