For the sound of a busy place is fine for a pretty face
Travel to a local plane
And he will lose if he won't choose
For a stone in a tin can
And never heard about the change
Ride the range of a London street
Sonny boy, with smokes for sale
Showed his hand and fell out of range
A city drought, you're down and out
The one he may confide in
Went to ground with a face so pale
Is wealth to the city man who leaves his armor down
And at the chime of the city clock
Find out the face that's fair, keep it by your side
Talk with neighbors only
Saddle up, kick your feet
Without a face to hide in
In the light of a city square
You fly to the city walls, take off with your bride
A city star, won't shine too far
But at the chime of a city clock
See your trousers don't taper
Put up your road block, hang on to your crown
Who knows what a face is for
When the light of the city falls
Make you sure to fit back in place
Turn around and come back again
The city clown will soon fall down
And the beads around your face
And at the beat of the city drum
The games you play, make people say
See how your friends come in twos or threes or more
On account of the way you are
You're either weird or lonely
Put up your road block, hang on to your crown
For a stone in a tin can
Stay indoors, beneath the floors
