Greek Street

It's of a Soho morning in shades of dirty grey At 6am, well I stumbled once more into the day The street's in need of hosing down to wash away the gloom And I was nineteen years of age, the time has gone so soon 'Twas there I spied a maiden with glitter in her hair And it fell in shards of crimson and it lit the morning air She's teetered on her platform heels and scaffolded my mind Me, without a hard hat on, just begging to be fined And I would recommend And I'd write it in a song A night that ends on Greek Street To anybody young Well, she took her name from winter, no robin went without And she fluttered on the petrol breeze as neon picked her out The soul of Cambridge Circus, a phoenix from the frost Before I knew what had begun I had already lost So we took a bus to Lewisham where her mother had a place And against the kitchen sideboard, well I kissed her on the face And on a Swedish packing bed I kissed her naked breast And it wasn't 'til the midnight moon we stopped to take a rest It's strange what I remember - it's strange what I recall I don't remember conversations - I don't remember words at all I remember trips to Brighton, wrapped warm against the cold I remember thinking time had stopped and we weren't growing old And that's the wonder of the transient- a sense of life alive And the magic of the twilight sky and fingers intertwined And fingers then unraveled, and distance in the sheets And distance in the way she gazed way back on down the street So we lingered in the summer months, my winter maid and me And in the Soho evenings I loved her tenderly But by the time the autumn came, her eye began to roam And I wandered back to Lewisham all longing and alone So she took her Swedish packing bed for some other blade to game And I tried my best to blame her but the blame it never came For she was but 18 years of age and barely in her bloom That one sweet misty morning on old Greek Street in the gloom