Lonely London - Jah Wobble

London.

Lonely London.

I wander thro' each charter’d street,

Near where the charter’d Thames does flow.

And mark in every face I meet

Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,

In every Infants cry of fear,

In every voice: in every ban,

The mind-forg'd manacles I hear

How the Chimney-sweepers cry

Every blackning Church appalls,

And the hapless Soldiers sigh

Runs in blood down Palace walls

But most thro' midnight streets I hear

How the youthful Harlots curse

Blasts the new-born Infants tear

And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

Folly is the cloak of knavery.

Shame is prides cloak.

Prisons are built with stones of law.

Brothels with bricks of religion.

The pride of the peacock is the glory of god.

The lust of the goat is the bounty of god.

The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of god.

The nakedness of woman is the work of god.

Excess of sorrow laughs.

Excess of joy weeps.

The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves,

the raging of the stormy sea and the destructive sword

are portions of eternity too great for the eye of man.

The fox condemns the trap not himself.

Joys impregnate, sorrows bring forth.

Let man wear the fell of the lion,

woman the fleece of the sheep.

What is now proved was once only imagined.

Always be ready to speak your mind and a base man will avoid you.

The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to the learn of the crow.

The fox provides for himself but god provides for the lion.

He who desires but acts not breeds pestilence.

The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.

Expect poison from the standing water.

You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough.