Johnny Flynn - Eyeless In Holloway lyrics
[Johnny Flynn - Eyeless In Holloway lyrics]
There's a man at hand, there's a way between
In the sinking sand and a crooked dream
And collared off at the modern age of nine
Summoned up for walking down the line
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
He filled his boots and he tipped his cap
And a 'root-to-toot' with the boss and that
And told a girl of the summer by the sea
Said to her, "Would you like to go with me?"
Wind has turned and the conquered drops
And the signal's changed and
The heart has stopped
And in with changes, always out with time
Nothing left but walking down the line
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
Drag your loose nets through the den
And come out less but sporting when
A mould to fit and you'd be feeling now
She is 'when' and he is always 'how'
Then her sweetness and his sweetness ended
And the fury's swimming 'til
The fury's bended
And lost in all might be to lost in time
What 'join the dots' might be
To walk the line
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
In the sinking sand and a crooked dream
And collared off at the modern age of nine
Summoned up for walking down the line
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
He filled his boots and he tipped his cap
And a 'root-to-toot' with the boss and that
And told a girl of the summer by the sea
Said to her, "Would you like to go with me?"
Wind has turned and the conquered drops
And the signal's changed and
The heart has stopped
And in with changes, always out with time
Nothing left but walking down the line
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
Drag your loose nets through the den
And come out less but sporting when
A mould to fit and you'd be feeling now
She is 'when' and he is always 'how'
Then her sweetness and his sweetness ended
And the fury's swimming 'til
The fury's bended
And lost in all might be to lost in time
What 'join the dots' might be
To walk the line
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek
They lost eyes in old city streets
Where the funeral pyres burned the
Last of the meek