(A Prospect From) Hope Street

I catch the days, tear the years to shreds And drag myself through unmade beds From a sleepless ride on a sleeper-train To the never-ending English Rain Distance falls, horizons stay As the evening tide comes to break the day Time weighs hard upon this land And it winds me up like a second hand Here on the doorstep, with no window to the world A handful of gravel and a mouthful of royal pearls Well, I begin to feel as you get trampled down by our tourist-feet The Northern Rain is coming down like a blinding sheet But the prospect from Hope Street Is still there for the eye to meet The Prospect from Hope Street Is still there for the eye to meet I spiral down with the river bends As the sun comes out like a long-lost friend I am homeward bound on this train again But I will soon be returning as sure as the rain As sure as the rain Here on the doorstep, with no window to the world A handful of gravel and a mouthful of royal pearls Well, I begin to feel as you get trampled down by our tourist-feet The Northern Rain is coming down like a blinding sheet But the prospect from Hope Street Is still there for the eye to meet The Prospect from Hope Street Is still there for the eye to meet