Eyeless In Holloway - Johnny Flynn

There’s a man at hand, there’s a way between

The sinking sand and a crooked dream

And collared off at the modern age of nine

Summoned off 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 is turned and the concord trucks

And the singers changed and the hard to soft

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

Dragging loose less through the den

And I come out less with sporting wear

More to fit than you’d be feeling now

She is aware that he is always how

Then her sweetness and his sweeter scented

And her fury’s swimming till the fury’s bended

And lost in all might be to lost in time

What joy the darts 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