ten thousand court shoes padding the floor,
getting off at Moorgate that's for sure.
Twenty thousand ipods carried in their pockets,
Ubiquity and Anonymity, Got it.
Can't understand why I keep on running
Can't ever learn that the bad are coming
Before it's too late
Now I hate the last place
And fear the new.
What do I do ?
I run towards the Thirty thousand brogues walking in Canary Warf
Getting on boats and tubes and down sarf
No one says hello
We've got to go
Ego, Ergo, Ipso Facto,
Go down sarf.