| Have you seen the old man |
| In the closed-down market, |
| Kicking up the papers with his worn-out shoes? |
| In his eyes, you see no pride, |
| Hands held loosely mostly by his side. |
| Yesterday's papers telling yesterday's news. |
| |
| So how can you tell me that you're lonely, |
| And say for you that the sun won't shine? |
| Well, let me take you by the hand |
| And lead you through the streets of London. |
| I'll show you something to make you change your mind. |
| |
| And have you seen the old girl |
| Who walks the streets of London, |
| Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags? |
| She's no time for talking, |
| She just keeps right on walking, |
| Carrying her home in two carrier bags. |
| |
| So how can you tell me that you're lonely, |
| And say for you the that sun won't shine? |
| Let me take you by the hand |
| And lead you through the streets of London. |
| I'll show you something to make you change your mind. |
| |
| And in the all-night cafe at a quarter past eleven, |
| See an old man sitting there on his own, |
| Looking at the world over the rim of his teacup? |
| And each tea lasts an hour |
| And then he wanders home alone. |
| |
| So how can you tell me that you're lonely, |
| And say for you that the sun won't shine? |
| Let me take you by the hand |
| And lead you through the streets of London. |
| I'll show you something to make you change your mind. |
| |
| And have you seen the old man |
| Outside the seamen's mission? |
| Memory fading with the medal ribbons that he wears? |
| And in the winter city, the rain cries a little pity, |
| For one more forgotten hero |
| In a world that doesn't care. |
| |
| So how can you tell me that you're lonely, |
| And say for you that the sun won't shine? |
| Well, let me take you by the hand |
| And lead you through the streets of London. |
| I'll show you something to make you change your mind. |
| |
| Hoh, oh. |
| I'll show you something to change your mind. |
