Lyrics
Stereophonic sound for the ceremonial occasion. We go now to London
The smell of diesel, the London docks
The smart old houses, the tower blocks
Laughing policemen, a stolen throne
They cross the fence, they right the wrong
Four bells ring, a nightingale sings
The beggars and poets, the queens and the kings
All the monks and the saints I see
This is a London that belongs to me
A country meadow is fine to see
But these grey streets belong to me
It's my home, it's where I've grown
Into the man that you see
Four bells ring, a nightingale sings
The beggars and poets, the queens and the kings
All the monks and the saints I see
This is a London that belongs to me
...As in the distance, the famous clocks of London chime the hour