Lyrics
What d'you know about growing up in London?
I didn't on my way up on the street
Oh yes, I was stuck in a dungeon
No mum, no dad, nowhere to sleep
I was only sixteen, left home as a teen
I couldn't swim upstream
Lost in the city, but I felt so free
Late nights busking solo in Soho
I gotta make P, being homeless is no joke
They used to judge me in the streets, but now they take photos
All them fat cats sniffing food in Wardour
But the drug fiends running 'round breaking the law more
What's the deal though? I wanna tell them
What am I supposed to do?
I can't walk another day in these shoes
What am I supposed to say
When everyone thinks that I'm doing okay?
I get high to get by
I write rhymes just to pass away the time
What am I supposed to do
When all I got is four strings and the truth?
Yeah, come on man
Sing, two, three, four
Gotta sing two hours just to make a tenner
In this English weather
Fell down but I gotta keep my head up
What would I do without my lyrics and my letters?
Fifty quid for a hostel's not cool
You got travellers and mad people that should be up in hospitals
If they nicked my phone and money, I coulda lost it, ooh
Late nights busking solo in Soho
I gotta make P, 'cause being homeless is no joke
They used to judge me in the streets, but now they take photos
All them fat cats sniffing food in Wardour
But the drug fiends running 'round breaking the law more
What's the deal though? I wanna tell them
What am I supposed to do?
I can't walk another day in these shoes
What am I supposed to say
When everyone thinks that I'm doing okay?
I get high to get by
I write rhymes just to pass away the time
But what am I supposed to do?
All I got is four strings and the truth